City of Retribution
by DeLeyano
Summary: Simon never got his mark; the vampires never helped fight in the war; Sebastian bested Jace; Clary did not portal to Lake Lynn; and Valentine got his wish. What would the world be like in Valentine's hands? Catastrophic.
1. Bloodlines

Simon never got his mark; the vampires never helped fight in the war; Sebastian bested Jace; Clary did not portal to Lake Lynn; and Valentine got his wish.

So when Valentine wishes for all Nephilim blood to be spilt except for his own, it seems that Valentine has won; he has successfully executed the first phase of his plan, the downworlders have evacuated Idris, and the rest of the Nephilim lie scattered across Alicante and the world. Dead. So on to phase two, right? With only Valentine's Nephilim blood alive wiping out the remaining downworlders should be simple, except with family comes blood. There are three Nephilim left in the world Valentine and Sebastian are two of them. Then there's the one he never wanted; he never knew; he never needed.

Clary.

**Rated T**, the rating might go up to M later throughout the story, I'm not entirely sure yet. However, if you think it needs to be raised tell me please.

**Author's note(s)**: Obviously most of the main characters, meaning the Nephilim, will be dead for the majority of this story. (Isabelle, Alec, Jace, Jocelyn, etc.) Set after City of Glass. Also, if I'm screwing anything up, like the format or grammar, please tell me. I'm not 100% sure how this site works and I'd like to get it right. **Disclaimer:** Obviously I don't own anything, that all belongs to Cassandra Clare, except the plot line. Even that was inspired by **Killing Wonderland** who wrote an amazing, post-apocalyptic story for the Mortal Instruments books.

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><p><span>City of Retribution<span>

Chapter 1: Bloodlines

For two weeks Clary had been in hiding. For two weeks she had seen no other shadowhunters. For two weeks she had seen nothing but demons in Idris.

They were everywhere. Wandering around like they own the place, destroying anything in sight. If one was to return to Idris right now for any reason at all, one would have thought they stumbled into the fourth dimension. The land was barren, scared probably beyond repair; even the sky which was once an endless blue had turned into a sea of black and gray clouds. The trees were stripped of their leaves, the grass was yellow, and any bird who dared sing its song in the morning quickly meant a swift death.

Clary knew Valentine was responsible for this. She had seen him wish upon the Angel, if only she hadn't swallowed so much of Lake Lynn's water, again. She could have stopped this, she could have saved everyone she loved, but she was lucky enough to have been spared.

For some reason, Valentine had been too overcome by the joy of his plan being successful, to notice Clary slowly crawling away from the lake. He must have figured the Angel would destroy her as well, except the angel didn't. And Clary knew why.

She had his blood, of all his glory, intelligence, and arrogance; he had forgotten she has his daughter, bound by blood. She had decided he had planned the wish with that particular wording so he would not lose his son, Sebastian/Jonathon (whoever), when he wished for the destruction of the Nephilim race.

But that would be his downfall. When Valentine made his wish, Clary made her promise. To reverse the evil that has forsaken the world and destroy her father and brother; because in this case, blood was life, not love.

Clary needed a plan, it was nearly twilight in Idris and she needed to get out, tonight. But without Magnus how would she? Clary cursed herself for relying on the warlock. She had a stele. She could create ruins. Clary took out the stele silently, wouldn't want to get caught by any demons nearby, and began to draw on a nearby tree. The markings burned the wood, threatening to smoke and draw attention to her but she did not stop. She could not stop.

The motions seemed to flow through her, and she let them take over, closing her eyes and focusing on two words, Central Park. There was no way she could go back to the institute, her house, Simon's house (if Simon was still alive) or Magnus's apartment, they were all too risky, surely Valentine would have installed some kind of monitoring system.

When she opened her eyes, the marks were burning into the tree with wisps of smoke curling off them. Slowly something began to appear, first like a ghost, then growing more solid and luminous. The portal wasn't on the tree, the trunk being much too thin, but more in front it, like if Clary were to walk through it she would smack her head against the tree like a practical joke.

She moved towards the portal, sticking her finger through and when she didn't feel the tree on the other side she stepped through, into nothingness.

It was only dark for a blink in time, but it was enough to frighten her. The feeling of a cool detachment filled her inside, then a hot flash of light as she stepped out in Central Park, leaving her shaking and dry heaving. But she was out, she was free, somewhat. She was in her home, in her land where she would have the upper hand and take down Valentine.

All she needed was a little help. But with her normal accomplices in downworld missing in action, she would have to resort to other acquaintances. Ones even she did not fully trust.

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><p>So I know it's short, but I had to get the basics down and straighten out my thoughts. So review? please and thank you :)<p> 


	2. Bane

Chapter 2: Bane

After wandering through central park, the subway system, and Brooklyn; Clary finally found the warlock's apartment. She had been careful, looking for anything suspicious or anything following her, but so far, nothing.

She knocked at the door, dancing back and forth on her feet to keep warm in the late autumn air; Idris had been like summer, so of course she wouldn't have had a jacket; just jeans and a light t-shirt. A minute passed, no answer, she knocked again; another minute another knock; still nothing.

"Well someone's being antisocial today." Clary muttered while she tried the handle. It was unlocked. Clary was against breaking and entering, but after the church, well, that was a thing of the past. Carefully she opened the door just enough so she could slip through, closed it with a quiet click of the door latch, and headed for the stairs.

Getting up the stairs was a whole different matter. They creaked as she walked up them, no matter how slow she went, the stairs betrayed her. _Why hadn't she bugged Jace more about teaching her to walk silently like other shadowhunters? Oh, that's right; she was too busy ogling over him to remember._ The thought of Jace almost brought tears to her eyes. He was gone, he didn't have Valentine's blood and although she was thanking the Angel for that, she was still upset. After all wouldn't it be better to have him as a brother than not have him at all? Clary pushed the tears back; she had a job to do.

The door to Magnus's apartment at the top of the stairs was unlocked as well. _Not good_, Clary thought. She stepped into the entry way/living room/party room. It had seemed so much better, with the people who had been partying here that first night when she had meant Magnus. Now it was sad and lonely, a dusty room with minimal furniture and not near as much personality as Magnus himself possessed.

Clary walked to the bedroom, giving up on being silent as her feet pounded the floor. The bedroom however, was like the last time she saw it, bright, flamboyant, and overly done. But there were no clues to where he could be. Clary sat down on the bed, head in her hands and ready to cry; when she heard a knock.

Clary looked up; there standing in the doorway, tall and thin, was Magnus. Well a more normal Magnus. His hair was still spiked and glittery, but there was no color in it, he wore normal jeans and a normal t-shirt. If it weren't for the cat eyes, Clary would have attacked him, thinking he was an enemy; or more likely, she would try to run away.

"I was wondering when you would show up," Magnus said softly, his voice was gentle like she might run away if startled. "But I'm afraid you're a few weeks to late." He finished coldly.

"Magnus, what-what happened to you?" Clary said horrified. This wasn't the Magnus who had messed around inside her head, or the Magnus that was Alec's boyfriend. This was a broken down, wretched shadow of the warlock she once knew.

"Hm, well, your father took over Idris, the Nephilim dropped dead in the middle of the war, very mess I might add, the downworlders retreated, and Manic Panic had a recall of their hair dyes!" By the end of his speech Magnus was in rage, probably more about the hair dye than anything else, but never the less, Clary tried to help.

"Well couldn't you just switch to a different brand?"

"I could, couldn't I? But it just wouldn't be the same. It would be like you switching Jace out for- for" Magnus stopped. Noticing Clary's eyes, how glassy they looked. "It just wouldn't be the same." He finished.

"I know what you mean." Clary had meant to say it strong, but it came out jagged, tears threatening to run down her face. "I need your help." She stated, forcing the words out of her mouth. "I need to reverse Valentine's wish and to do that I need your help."

"That's all you want to do? Let him of scott free?" Magnus inquired.

Clary looked up at him through red locks that had fallen over her blazing, emerald eyes, her expression was mute, and Magnus understood. She wanted Valentine dead, just as much as he did.

"Very well, what do you want to know?"

"Who's still alive?" She asked.

"Well, let us see. Obviously the shadowhunters are all taking a long vacation right now, so you're talking about the downworlders I presume?" Clary nodded. "Well, there's my magnificent self, although less magnificent than what I normally strive to be. I believe the fay have help up quite well, they living under ground after all," Magnus paused as if in concentration. He walked across the room and set a paper bag down on the desk and walked over to stare out the dust covered window.

"I don't think I want the Seelie Queen's help." Clary stated, the last time she saw the fay queen; well, which was the last time Simon could call himself a mundane.

"I'm not sure you can afford to be picky with whose help you can acquire, Clary." Magnus commented. "But as I was saying, the fay are doing well, probably the best of us all really, the remaining warlocks and witches are scattered around New York like they've always been, but they're in no way prepared to fight or help for the most part. And"

"What happened to them?"

"You're just not going to let me finish a single sentence, are you?" Magnus gave Clary a glare. Strange, Clary never imagined that look was in Magnus's closet and it didn't look good on him.

"Anyways, the werewolves are pretty much running around chasing their tails, that's the nice way to put it, but they were already unorganized to begin with; although, Luke has a small group holed up down town with Maia." Magnus paused, waiting for Clary to comment.

"So where would you recommend getting help from?" Clary asked slowly, trying to get on Magnus's good side for the day.

"I haven't gotten there yet, my dear." Magnus said; a slight smile at his lips. Obviously this answer was going to aggravate Clary, and Magnus expected it to be entertaining. "The vampires," Magnus said, pausing for dramatic effect Clary guessed, "Have been doing exceptionally well, if I do say so myself. Well in their own way, particularly Raphael's way." Magnus continued to look out the window, as if he could see something through all the dirt, but the frown on his face gave him away. Apparently, Raphael's way was not something Clary would approve of and neither did Magnus.

"So in other words, I'm going to have to go beg Raphael and the other vampires for their help." Clary stated.

"Yes, although that would be the easy part. You see the Hotel Dumort as proven to be a very formidable; oh what should I call it? Fort? Bunker? I don't know and it doesn't matter. Whatever you call it, Valentine has failed to get in. He even sent Sebastian and some of those demons and they failed. But Valentine has kept guards posted around the area, so be careful trying to get by them, the neighborhood already poses a threat of getting jumped or worse; and you wouldn't want to get caught by his people, especially being who you are."

"Can't you just make a portal and drop me off on the roof? Or even inside the hotel?"

"I wish it was that simple. One, even if I could I wouldn't. On a normal day if I just popped into the hotel, Raphael would kill me; but bringing you along, well that would be the event of a century for him. Second, Valentine has put up sensors that would alert him to any downworld magic, kind of like a homing device, hence why most warlocks and witches are useless as of right now."

"That's terrible." Clary said, and then paused for a minute. "Would they pick up on, say, a ruin?" She asked.

"Well, since Nephilim were the only ones who used those, I would assume no." Magnus said brushing the question off and looking at Clary matter-of-factly, another odd look for Magnus. "How did you get here anyways? Last I heard you were in Idris with no way out." Clary held up the stele in answer. "Well of course, your little talent has saved you once again."

"How have the vampires been holding Valentine off?"

"Like vampires would, if a guard or demon or whatever Valentine is using these days gets to close, the vampires take care of it, quite brutally I've heard; and I've heard a lot about them lately. Then again, you'll learn all of that when you go ask them for help."

"I asked you for help."

"And I'm helping, I can't do magic right now, but I always have gossip; and it's free of charge." Magnus gave a sly smile and a wink; it was good to see he still had some of his old personality left in him.

"Fine, I'll go by myself. But I can't move the grate to the basement by myself nor can I fly, so how do I get in?" Clary asked, getting up and walking towards Magnus, arms crossed over her chest.

"You won't have to worry about that, they'll find you." Magnus said looking down at her. So small and yet so defiant, ready to take on anything she was. Clary gave a quick nod, reached up and hugged him, shocking him for a moment. Then she quickly let go and walked stiffly out the door.

"Thank you, Magnus Bane." She said as she left the apartment. She walked down the stairs, out the complex door and into the street. Pointing her feet in the direction of the hotel, she held back the nausea that threatened to send her to her knees. Tonight, she would learn how the vampires manage so well in times of crisis.


	3. The Unholy Nature of the Damned

So this chapter is a little later than I expected it to be; I got distracted by homework, brownies, and guys with motorcycles. XP (it's not my fault they live across the street from me). Anyways here it is.

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><p>Chapter 3: The Unholy Nature of the Damned<p>

As the sun began to set Clary noticed how tired she was. How her feet dragged along the sidewalk, how her eye lids became more and more heavy with sleep; if she was going to confront vampires, she should probably be fully awake, what with how quick they can move and all.

Yet, going home was out of the question, if Valentine knew she was alive, which from Magnus it sounded like Valentine assumed she was dead, he would have put loads of security at her house, her home. Oh, how she wanted her bed right now, the fluffy comforter, the soft sheets, it might have been a small bed but it was her bed, and now it was a siren, beckoning her to come home and possibly die at the hands of Valentine's associates.

Again, Clary had to push her personal thoughts to the back of her mind. She needed to focus. She needed to keep going onwards to the Hotel Dumort. She needed coffee.

At the thought of anything consumable her stomach growled. She had been living off the stashes of food in the summer mansion homes of the now deceased Nephilim. And she craved something other than stale chips and cold, canned soup. Sure, she had almost no money, (thirty seven dollars to be exact, that she had found lounging about the mansions) but right now the splurge seemed necessary.

Nothing looked safe here though. Spanish Harlem was obviously not a friendly place. She didn't need the run-down buildings or shifty looking people to tell her that; she could have a thousand body guards and her mother would still disapprove of her being here. But eventually she found a somewhat suitable place to sit down and rest, she should have stayed with Magnus for a bit, crashed there maybe. However, she was not far from the hotel, and going back now seemed impossible.

The girl at the cash register looked Clary up and down before asking, what Clary would like. Apparently Clary must have had a giant bumper sticker on her head that read, "Easy target, defenseless white girl, does not belong here."

"One cappuccino and one of your ham and cheese Panini's please." Clary paused, "Actually you better make that a double shot." Clary paid and the girl grabbed one of the Panini's put it in the little machine they use to heat it up and got to work on Clary's drink. All while Clary sat down in a booth where she could just barely see over the opposite side and through the windows that looked out onto the street. The windows had bars on them.

The girl came over, and Clary thanked her. Nibbling on the sandwich and sipping the drink, she watched the last of the traces of sunlight disappear. Now is the time the vampires come out, along with some suspicious mundanes, which just might have worse intensions than vampires.

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><p>Clary woke to what she though was an earthquake. Quickly she opened her eyes, jumped up and rammed her middle against the table, <em>that's right<em> she thought_, I'm in a café_. She rubbed her hips, the shaking was the girl from the register.

"We're closin' up shop, miss. Sorry but ya'll gotta dip out." Clary had to decipher the girl's informal tone, but she got it, Clary had fallen asleep, the girl had let her stay, but it was time for her to leave.

"Thank you," Clary slurred, she was still half asleep. "For letting me stay here. What time is it?"

"Bout ten; and don't mention it, we get people like you here all the time, young adults or tourists who have wandered into the wrong side of town, or in this case the worse side of the bad part of town." She answered solemnly. Clary noticed her plate and cup had been cleared away, worse side of town?

"Well thank you for your kindness. I've got a friend to meet up with though."

"Uh huh, there's always a "friend" to meet up with, isn't there?" The girl said, raising her eyebrow in suspicion. Clary gawked, got up and walked through the door, and started down the last eight or ten blocks.

_She thought I was a prostitute! But then again, in this neighborhood I guess that's not a long shot of a guess. _Clary thought, hugging herself, trying to fend off the early winter chill. _If it snows I'm fucked._

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><p>The Hotel Dumort looked as run down as ever. In fact if Clary had to guess, the vampires would have been the first of the downworlders that were completely taken out. The bricked up windows and doors, the crumbling exterior, the graffiti and trash that littered the area; it was all a ruse; meant to fool humans into thinking that it was abandoned. Clary knew better. The last time she was here, there must have been at least a hundred vampires inside, ready to kill her and Jace, then ready to trade Simon (the rat) for Raphael, then ready to kill them all three of them; all it would take was one command from Raphael and she'd be dead tonight. And she hated how her life was about to depend on Raphael's verdict, as soon as she set her foot on their land, she was at his mercy. If he had any.<p>

Clary did a quick scan of the area, and slowly they came out of the shadows, Valentine's guards. Magnus had said the guards stayed at the edge of Raphael's territory because if they got to close, they always ended up dead; now she had to get up close and personal with the big bad vampire herself, and not end up dead. _Oh tonight's going to be a fun one_, Clary thought sarcastically.

Most the guards weren't human, Clary noted. They looked like demons and maybe some forsaken. _Great and I don't have a weapon. How good is their sense of smell again? _Clary thought, she was still a half block away and the guards haven't taken noticed of her, or they had and deemed her unthreatening. Either way, they had one job, taken down the vampires, and they seemed focused on it. They were surprisingly patient; time obviously was not a priority here.

Clary took out her stele, her only defense. Looked at the back of her left hand and set the tip of the stele against her skin. She thought for a minute then began to draw and the result was something like a treble clef bisected by a twisting line. It didn't even look like a real ruin.

Then, the marks began to disappear, along with the flesh that was beneath the marks! Clary bit her tongue so she wouldn't scream. She could see through part of her hand! Oh by the Angel, what had she done?

The see-throughness began to spread, enveloping first her whole hand, then her arm, then her entire body. She looked down where her hands should be, they weren't there, yet she could still feel herself, feel the brick wall of the building next to her, but she couldn't see herself.

The Nephilim had a similar ruin, but that one only messed with mundane vision. Clary was completely invisible, even to her Nephilim eyes.

Clary walked towards the hotel, a little hesitant at first, mainly because walking with seemingly no feet, is an unfortunate block with the whole hand-eye-foot-don't-fall-on-your-face coordination thing.

She walked right passed the first guard, nothing. She walked by the second, still nothing. She walked right by the third close enough to smell the rotting, black flesh, down the alley that led to the grate that blocked the passage into the basement of the hotel, and came to a halt.

There was one of the guards, hovering over the grate. But the guard was human, or looked human, yes, it had to be human, the build and physical dimensions were too mundane to be anything else. However, as Clary took a closer examination of the guard, she noticed the black lines that looked so elegant across his (Clary was sure it was a he) arms and along the back of his neck. His oversized sword clattered to the ground from his hand into a pool of something dark that Clary hadn't noticed beforehand.

She looked carefully in the dull light of the seraph blade, it was a dark crimson. It was blood, the guard's blood.

Clary slowly looked up her eyes covering every inch of the guard's, the Nephilim's body, until she found the cause of something protruding from the guard's chest cavity. At first she thought it was another weapon, until it moved. It pulled out of the chest and the body fell limply to the ground.

The "weapon" was an arm, an arm that had gone straight through a grown man's chest and was now coated in the Nephilim's blood. Clary glanced at the rest of the person attached to said arm. Honey-colored skin that smoothly covered unmistakably lean, hard muscle; with dark eyes and even darker hair that tumbled into his eyes and just barely brushed his shoulders; he must have been at least half a head taller than Clary and more than twice her age, even if he physically looked no more than nineteen.

Clary was frozen, as she watched Raphael raise his hand towards his lips and lick the blood off one of his fingers, a cruel smile playing at his lip, his needle like fangs glinting in the soft light.

This, this situation, was not what she expected. She had been expecting to beg for her life then argue, barter, or strike some kind of unfair deal with Raphael to get his help; not witness a cruel execution of one of her own. _One of her own that should be dead_, she thought carefully. _Why was there a Nephilim here? He should be dead. He shouldn't exist. He should be, as mundanes would say, a myth. _

Clary watched as Raphael turned to his accomplices and muttered something too low for Clary to here. Next to Raphael, those accompanying him looked rather plain, despite the fact that they were all beautiful as all vampires are, yet they still fell into the background, only adding emphasis to Raphael's stunt. Despite that factor, Clary recognized a few, Jacob and Lily, whom she had already had the displeasure of meeting.

Clary took a small step to try and hear the discussion, setting her foot down on uncovered, undisturbed, dry, ground that should have made no noise what so ever; and Raphael's head still whipped around right to where she was standing. Clary froze like a deer in the headlights.

Raphael stared her down, his eyes roaming up and down her body like she was a piece of meat, and to him she probably was, and then she realized she was still invisible and he was only looking for the source of the noise.

Raphael turned back towards Jacob, obviously ordering him and the others to take the body inside to the others, although Clary couldn't make out the words, his voice was like velvet, soft and flowing so perfectly and evenly, it was just another smack in the face concerning the current situation. _So that's how they were doing so well. Kill their enemies and get blood at the same time; kill two birds with one stone. Where did they dispose of the bodies?_ Clary decided she didn't want to know. It was just her and Raphael in the alley now, the others were gone, along with the body, _I'm still invisible right?_ Clary was one more nightmarish event from hyperventilating.

Silently Raphael walked towards her; Clary did her best to calm her breathing, her best not to run screaming into the night because surely Raphael would have his fangs in her neck before she even got out of the alley.

Raphael stopped. Right in front of her and much to close for her comfort; he looked down right into her eyes, her cover had to be gone, she glanced down through her peripheral vision and she was still invisible. _How does he know?_

Raphael raised his hand that was still slick with blood and gently brushed his index finger across Clary's bottom lip, staining it red, then he circled up and brushed her top lip, and slipped his finger right inside her mouth through her lips. Clary screamed as the salty taste of blood entered her mouth. She jumped back, tripping over her own feet and fell backwards, she scrambled but it was useless. She sat there on the ground, defenseless against Raphael with her cover shattered, _how?_ She did not know.

"It's nice of you to finally join us, Morgenstern."

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><p>So there it is. Chapter 3, I think I'm letting my imagination get a little to far ahead of me :P review please?<p> 


	4. Bartering

So I've decided to try my best to make the chapters shorter, because this is starting to feel like an actual book and takes forever to read.

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><p>Chapter 4: Bartering<p>

"How did you know I was here?" Clary asked, trying to sound defiant. When really she felt like a mouse trapped in a corner by a cat. She stood up and brushed herself off, refusing the urge to rub her sore backside.

"I didn't. Not until your heart started racing." He smiled, his arms crossed across his chest, still looking down on her, inspecting her carefully.

"Stop looking at me like that!" Clary said, her temper rising.

Raphael shrugged his expression was back to boredom. Apparently the fun was over. "I can look at you however I want. You're on my land, hermosa." He paused, "and Jace isn't exactly around to protect you anymore, is he?" He was mocking her, trying to get her to break down, but Clary refused, she was going to be strong and get what she wanted from this jerk.

Clary didn't answer, simply stood there, arms crossed, leaning on her right hip, and putting the strongest expression of determination on her face that she could possibly think of. Raphael sighed, and muttered something in Spanish.

"Perhaps it would be best if we went inside to talk," Raphael turned and walked away, expecting Clary to follow like a puppy.

"We could talk here." Clary called out to him, still standing her ground.

"We could, but there are unwanted eavesdroppers nearby, and I'm sure you don't want them to overhear your plans to save your little Jace." Raphael was pulling back the grate, effortlessly of course.

"He's not little!"

Raphael looked up at her; even with the smallest smile, he was still able to flash his fangs at her. "I'm sure he's not, sweetheart." He laughed slightly, Clary looked at him, not getting the meaning of his words; then it clicked. Clary's face turned bright red, she was sure of it. "Now come." Raphael's order was unmistakable, and Clary, to her dismay, obeyed. Any sign of humor was gone from Raphael's face as he held out his hand, just like the first time she had meant him to help her jump down.

Clary refused the help. She looked Raphael right in the eyes, and then jumped. She landed with her knees bent and thankfully not flatfooted; but she was still stunned when she heard Raphael drop next to her. Of course, he had no problem.

Raphael did not pause for her, he simply walked down the corridor; while Clary followed stiffly behind; doing her best to catch up.

The first levels of the hotel looked the same as before. The stairs for the maids that were hidden in the back were still there luckily. She must have followed Raphael up twenty stories before they finally exited through a door into the main hall.

Clary almost gawked, almost. She was more frozen in place at the sight; the hotel was destroyed on the bottom floors, rotted and broken. Yet this floor, and probably a few others, she figured, was in pristine condition. It looked as if she was in an entirely new building, and a five star building at that. Sure it was still dark for her eyes but for a vampire's, it would be as bright as day. Raphael guided her to the end of the hall, and opened the door for her, Clary did not thank him.

Clary walked into the room, which looked like the living room of, say, a millionaire on the left side of the room. On the right it was like the office of said millionaire. The walls were a crisp white, setting a startling contrast against the black leather couch and lounge chairs, which were resting on a navy rug. The rug had to be real fur of some animal, just dyed, yet knowing the downworld world, it could be something else.

The far wall along the right was lined with book cases, filled with actual books and millions of papers, where in the middle it split to show an archway that led to another room, probably a kitchen, and Clary was sure Raphael did not use that ever. There was a desk crowded with papers on the wall across from the entry way, and a dark wooden door next to it. Bedroom perhaps? That was Clary's best guess.

Clary heard the door shut and the unmistakable click of a lock, great she was trapped. Raphael sat down in one of the chairs and waved his arm at the couch for Clary. Her movements were almost robotic as she pried her eyes away from gathering every detail of the room. Carefully she sat down; the couch was as soft as ever. _So the bloodsucker has style and money_, Clary thought, the term "bloodsucker" making her think of Jace.

"What is it that you want?" Raphael asked his voice breaking the silence. Clary glanced at him; in the chair he looked almost regal. Well a regal, bad ass prince that is. Too young to be the king, beautiful enough to be the prince and his posture gave Clary the impression of boredom; like he had something better to be doing. Clary mentally slapped herself for thinking he was beautiful, _I am not attracted to Raphael! _

"I want your help getting back into Idris and reversing what Valentine has done." Clary said.

"Why would I want to bring back the Nephilim? As soon as Valentine is gone I'll be free to do whatever I want, with no rules to obey, and no annoying half-angels checking up on me and my people. If you're actually still wondering, the answer is no. Lo siento, hermosa, but it's not happening." Raphael finished his eyes were cold and dark.

"Okay then how about we make a deal. Before the war, the Clave was willing to add four seats to represent the downworlders. If you help me, I'll make sure you get the seat for the vampires." Clary said carefully. She had to word it exactly, Raphael might not be fay but vampires were a close runner up for trickiest downworlders to negotiate with.

"I have no interest in the Clave or being a part of it for that matter. Now if this is all you have to offer, I'd be glad to get the door for you. I'll even make sure no one bites you on your way out." Raphael said, although Clary was sure it was sarcasm.

"I do have one more thing," Clary said slowly. She was taking a risk, a huge, ginormous risk. "And I think it would be to your interest."

"You have nada, hermosa. Now quit trying to play me and get out." Raphael glared at her.

"Are you still interested in how Simon became the daylighter?" Clary said numbly, she wasn't looking at Raphael, she was looking at the rug; brushing her foot against it she realized the fur flipped back to the way it had been. So it was real.

"The daylighter is dead. And although it did catch my curiosity, I believe that there is no more potential there." He confirmed.

"There is plenty of potential," Clary paused, "I'll give you my blood in exchange for your help."


	5. Conditions

So I can't seem to get reviews or feedback of any kind. Do you have to activate it or something? Technology isn't really my thing and I would appreciate the help, so if anyone wants to take the time, email me please.

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><p>Chapter 5: Conditions<p>

"As generous as it is for you to do that, there really isn't anything about Nephilim blood that makes it different from mundane blood. So, I'm imposed to decline." Raphael said calmly, although Clary had registered the shock on his face before he regained control of his features.

"But my blood is different than other shadowhunters." Clary stated, she tried to control herself, wanting to release the information bit by bit as the bargaining fell into her favor, (and keep as much information to herself as possible) but she panicked. "Simon drank Jace's blood, which contained a larger portion of angel blood than a normal Nephilim, Thanks to Valentine's experimenting. That's why Simon could go out in the sun. I am also an accidental victim of Valentine's experimenting, and also have a larger amount of angel blood in me; that's why I can create ruins that were never known before. If you were to drink my blood, you would gain Simon's power." Clary finished. The words had almost burned coming out of her mouth, like a betrayal of her kind.

Clary glanced up at Raphael only to see him deep in thought.

"And what, exactly is stopping me from taking your blood by force now? You have nowhere to run, I can easily overpower you, and if you do manage to get out, you'll have 219 vampires after you." _219?_ Clary had greatly under estimated Raphael's forces. The vampires she had seen the night with Jace were a small portion of the real number.

"The blood has to be given willingly, not taken by force. Jace gave Simon his own blood when Simon was dying on Valentine's ship." Clary noted, it was a total bluff, she didn't know if that's how it worked; but she sounded convincing so she sat up straighter, crossed her arms and looked at Raphael matter-of-factly. Hopefully adding to the illusion she was creating.

"And you only have Simon as an example to prove this point?" Raphael said doubtfully. Lying was not Clary's specialty, and if she wasn't careful, Raphael would walk circles around her with questions, making her dizzy until the truth sent her to the ground, probably with a certain vampire's fangs in her throat.

"Jace was, is, a Nephilim, he's been in plenty of fights with vampires and he's been bitten plenty of times. Have you heard of any other daylighters?" Clary asked him, hoping she had turned the tables.

"A vampire's bite doesn't necessarily draw blood, believe me I would know_." I'm sure you would_, Clary thought menacingly. Raphael ignored Clary's death glare, "However, you offer is alluring enough to take the risk. Of course there are a few other conditions that need to be handled." Raphael gave a sly smile.

"Such as?" Clary asked while Raphael took out a phone, and typed something. _Vampires text? _Clary had never thought of the old, dangerous, demonic, bloodsucking creatures as creatures of the 21st century. She figured smoke signals were more up their alley.

"If we are to use the help of other downworlders, we use my acquaintances; there will be no children of the moon; we work at night and you will not go off by yourself during the day; and if things get out of hand, I call the shots." Raphael finished as he sent off whatever message he had to whomever it was for.

Clary thought carefully. She had nothing else to bargain with. It was a shame he didn't want the council seat, that would have been a good bargaining tool.

"Yes, maybe, yes, and no." Clary decided after much debating; and Raphael up from his phone at her, with an astounded and confused look on his face. "Yes, we will only use your acquaintances, maybe there will be no werewolves; yes, we will only work at night and I won't go off by myself, and no. In hazardous situations, we both have to agree on the plans." Clary clarified. She didn't think Raphael liked her answers.

"Do you really think you're in a position to make a deal with me anymore? You've given your greatest offer away; and I'm always willing to test if you really have to 'give' your blood to me." Raphael said. It was a threat; Clary was treading in dangerous waters and she needed to get out.

"It makes sense. The first one is reasonable, I'm sure you have more contacts in downworld than I do, although Magnus would be a huge help; but then you know him. As for the second, we will go as long as we can without the werewolves help, but if we eventually come to need it, which we likely will, we will have to ask them. The third is also reasonable; you can't go out in sunlight yet, and I don't really want to go off by myself when Valentine, or worse, Sebastian could be waiting around the corner. But the last one is where I have to draw the line. Valentine is in Idris, Alicante to be more exact. I may be new to this whole other world thing, but even I know more about the city than you do. And that city is where our most hazardous situations will be." Clary concluded. She was proud, _if I ever go back to high school, I'm joining the debate team._

Raphael paused, sent another message, to Clary's frustration (she didn't see how a message out-ranked the present situation), then looked back at her, holding her gaze. She looked away first.

"Very well, you've made your point." Raphael said smoothly, his voice was dangerous, like a leopard ready to pounce on its prey. Clary was sure she was the prey. "I agree to your terms and offer my service to help you to the best of my ability to reverse Valentine's actions in exchange for you blood." Raphael said. Clary listened carefully, looking for some loop hole in his speech that he could escape from. Nothing stood out.

"And I agree to your conditions, under which said help maybe received and when Valentine's plans are reversed, I shall give you my blood." Clary felt like she was reciting lines from a text book, it was all too formal for her.

Raphael nodded and stood up, went to the door and opened it before the vampire on the other side could knock. The new vampire cocked her head at Clary and raised an eyebrow; then Raphael started speaking and her head whipped back to him so fast she almost gave Clary whiplash.

Clary waited, awkwardly on the couch. She played with her hands for a bit, but felt foolish. So she stood up and walked over to the desk, glancing over the papers while Raphael argued, too soft for her to hear.

**To the Head of the New York Clan located in New York City, New York. **Clary read. She picked up the letter, her inner snoop kicking in.

"That is none of your concern," and the letter was plucked out of her hand before she could read the first word. She looked up into Raphael's eyes; once again he was too close for her comfort. "Be careful what you get into around here, little angel. There is a good chance you won't get out." Raphael warned. Clary pouted in protest, her lower lip sticking out a little. Raphael laughed softly.

"What is it?" Clary asked, regaining her words and pointing to the letter.

"Vampire politics. Believe it or not, we have our own system of," Raphael paused, "government, if that's what you wish to call it." Raphael finished, he didn't look pleased with his word choice.

"You have elections?"

"Not exactly; something similar though." Raphael smiled and handed her a backpack. "This is for you, hermosa. There are clothes, water, whatever Alexia found to eat down at the corner store and other essentials you might find useful." Raphael pushed the bag into Clary's hands, "You'll be staying here for the day; I'll even give you my bed so you can catch up on sleep. And no, you cannot have your own room, if you are not under my watch the others will surely take advantage of that; you could say we're rationing the blood supply." Raphael paused waiting for any protest, Clary stood there looking as defiantly as one could when one is less than a foot away from a vampire's mouth. "There is a bathroom connected to the bedroom on your right, you are free to use it." Raphael said, granting her permission.

"Thank you, but I'm not sure that's necessary." Clary stated, walking towards the door, she paused and looked back when Raphael spoke again.

"Oh but I believe it is. You still have dried blood smeared on your lips." Raphael said, Clary broke down, horrified. Repulsed. Both. Raphael was grinning, his fangs in full view, and he knew he had gotten under her skin. Clary ran through the door, found the bathroom, and scrubbed at her mouth and face with her hands until her skin was raw.


	6. The Master and The Servant

Chapter 6: The Master and The servant

Clary woke up late in the afternoon. Of course, there was no sun to tell her this, it was all on instinct. The bed she was in was huge. With pillows, sheets, and a comforter that put her own to shame. She did not want to get out of bed and she definitely didn't want to work with Raphael today, _to night_, she corrected, she was officially on vampire time. She lay there, determined to enjoy her last few moments of peace, when the door clicked open and Raphael walked in, and closed the door to lean against it.

"AH! What the hell are you doing?" Clary yelled, pulling the covers up. Yeah, she wasn't naked, she was in the clothes from yesterday, minus the ratty jeans; but it felt wrong, Raphael seeing her in bed and all.

"Seeing if you were up yet, glad to see you are." Raphael answered; he did not seem to be concerned with any matters of intrusion. "The sun is setting so you have time to get ready." Raphael added; he still did not leave.

"Did you even sleep?" Clary asked, Raphael didn't look tired, maybe a little, but that could have been the shortage of blood. "And I'll get ready when you leave." Clary stated.

"No, I don't need as much sleep as a mundane, or Nephilim, in this case." Raphael answered, a smile began to play at his lips, "I'll leave when I'm ready." He said, his eyes were probably half closed, but were obviously still on Clary, mocking her.

"You're just going to make my life hell for however long this takes, aren't you?" Clary asked. She was sitting up; the covers had fallen away, showing her t-shirt from last night, proving to Raphael that he wasn't going to get to see anything.

"You dragged me into this, so sí, pretty much, hermosa." Raphael gave a short laugh along with one glance that was a little to long for Clary's liking, and then finally he left the room. Clary groaned. Her life was going to be hell from now on, an undetermined amount of time with Raphael, and if he kept this act up, it just might kill her. Where was Jace when she needed him?

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><p>The next time Raphael came in the room, Clary had washed up, dressed in the clothes Alexia had fetched for her, and was now stuffing everything back into the backpack. Granted, the clothes were not a shadowhunter's gear, navy jeans, and a fitted black top with a light, black leather jacket, but they would do. With her shadowhunter boots she had been wearing for the past two weeks, she looked like a badass; the red hair kind of killed it though.<p>

"The sun has set, we're leaving." It was nothing less than an order. Clary was ready to object, but for what? Staying in the vampire hotel had no benefit for her. So she nodded, swung the pack onto her shoulder, walked through the door into the entry way, pausing for Raphael to catch up.

The blonde vampire, the one who had stolen Simon, Jacob, was sitting on the couch, going over some of the papers. He acknowledged her with a glance and turned to Raphael.

"Sire, I do not see how Camille is relevant at-"

"That is not up for debate, Jacob. In my absence you and Lily will share the duties that I uphold around here. All of them, if you two fail I can assure you that the both of you will see a sunrise when I get back." Raphael said, grabbing a bag that was sitting in one of the chairs as he ushered Clary towards the door.

"Yes, sire." Jacob said in a monotone voice. And Clary was out in the hall, Raphael leading her towards the stairs again.

"Should you really be treating them like that? I mean, threats are useful and all, but if you use them to much, they're going to rebel or something." Clary said, Raphael looked back at her, an incredulous look.

"I lead my own how I see fit." Raphael responded.

"Really? Well from history I can't think of a time that plan didn't fail." Clary commented, they were walking up the stairs now; _it hadn't seemed this tall when we were running up it,_ Clary thought, quickly leaning over the railing to see how much farther up they had to go.

"You're referring to human history, which does not apply here." Raphael said, reaching the top, he opened the door that led out onto the roof. Clary walked over to the edge and looked down. She could see the guards below, tiny little dots that surrounded the building, some were close and some were further down the streets, none however, tried to invade.

"How are we getting-" Clary's voice faded as she realized the answer. "Oh." Was all she had to say to the black, bike Raphael was standing by, looking at her with one eye brow raised as if to say, _you're really going to ask that? Even after we walked up the stairs and not down? _Clary hesitated, her first motorcycle ride was with Jace, she had trusted him; and they had ended up tumbling out of the sky, barely dodging death. She certainly did not trust Raphael, and she was not so confident she could dodge death by motorcycle twice. "Maybe we should try an alternative," Clary said, her voice was shaky.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Raphael asked, total confident in that he knew she had no idea. Clary said nothing. "Give me your bag," another order.

Clary obeyed, handing the bag over, and Raphael set it in one of the saddle bags and got on the bike. Clary hesitated, but a look from Raphael, and she climbed onto the bike; putting the largest possible amount of space between the two of them.

"Hermosa, you're going to fall off," Raphael said, Clary couldn't decide if his voice was sweet or mocking, maybe it was mockingly sweet, _as if he would actually care about me._

"No I won't, I've ridden a motorcycle before." Clary said, tentatively holding onto Raphael's shoulders.

"Not with me, you haven't." Raphael said; he grabbed her from the back of her knees and dragged her forward until she was straddling him from behind, forcing Clary to wrap her arms around his waist, instead of just hanging on to his shoulders. Raphael started the bike, and Clary had to shout over the engine.

"Wait! Where are we going?"

"The fey."

"Why not Magnus?" Clary asked, surely Magnus would be the greatest help.

"Because with Valentine's wards, he's useless. Maybe he'll be more help later. And the fey have their own way into Idris." Raphael answered; right before he rammed the gas, the tires spun for a second, trying to gain traction, and when they did Clary almost went flying off the back. Clary had a pretty good guess she wouldn't survive this time.

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><p>Despite her fear and her crazy imagination that Raphael was trying to, in fact, kill her; they landed safely in a park outside of New York City. Way outside of the city, Clary couldn't see any houses, but she saw lights off in the distance. The bike went dead silent, and she hoped off, without the engine, the silence was stunning, nothing moved, and everything was dark.<p>

Raphael grabbed Clary by the wrist and half took her, half dragged her over the ground; while he was able to see and walk just fine with his fancy, vampire vision, Clary stumbled over the rocks, her eyes wide straining for any glimmer of light. They stopped near a pond, the water was black and uninviting, and why hadn't they gone to Central park if they were going to discuss matters with the fey?

Raphael took out his phone again, checking the time. In the light Clary got a better glimpse of area, it was not a park, it was a graveyard. Clary swallowed down her fear and forced her eyes to take in her surroundings, in the faint light, there were huge shadows cast by tombstones, leafless trees, statues, etc. She had been in a graveyard before, when Simon had supposedly died and risen again as a vampire; she gulped and rapped her arms around herself. Even with the jacket it was cold.

"Maldita sea, he's late." Raphael spoke to no one in particular. He put away the phone and the world went dark again.

"Who's he?" Clary asked, trying to control her chattering teeth.

"A friend of mine." Raphael answers, vague answers seemed to be the game for the night.

"You have a fey who's a friend? I'm surprised, not that he's fey, just that you have a friend." Clary threw it back at him, and she could feel Raphael glaring at her; barely could she see his outline as the moon came out from behind the clouds, "perhaps we should try another time. It's late, fey aren't vampires so he's probably asleep." Clary finished looking away.

"These fey don't sleep." That was all Raphael said, but Clary could feel his gaze, again and she could almost picture the look on his face as he said, "You know if you're cold, I'd be glad to warm you up. I promise I won't bite." Clary looked at him; her cheeks were burning, probably as red as her hair and she was sure he could see it. "Well I won't bite too hard, would be a better answer." Raphael finished, _this must be punishment for my earlier statement_, Clary figured, but the edge that his words had brought, a warm feeling in her face and abdomen, did not leave. _What was the score? Clary: 0 Raphael: 3?_ She did not want to know.

"I'll pass." Clary said, turning to the lake, willing the water to rise up and drag Raphael down and hold him there for eternity. Even with her angelic abilities, it did not work.

"For now." Raphael said it like he was finishing her answer for her.

They must have waited about a half hour, Clary pacing around to keep warm, Raphael watching for anything, either good or bad. Then Clary, on a bold move, or just to get away from Raphael, walked a little farther than she had planned, staring at the ground, and ran head first into someone.

"Ahh!" Clary screamed, before the person covered her mouth with his hand, then dragged her as he walked towards Raphael.

"I believe this belongs to you." The voice wasn't very deep, but it was male, definitely male. Clary kicked and struggled against the person until it finally let go, giving her a shove right into Raphael's hands. Raphael calmly caught her by her wrists, and moved her over to his right, his arm around her waist and resting on her hip. Clary objected, trying to move away, but Raphael cut her off with a quick squeeze to her hip that probably could have broken it. "A human subjugate? That's highly unlikely of you, Raphael." The man commented, or course he didn't really look like a man from what Clary could see in the dark.

He was tall, really tall; her first thought was Meliorn, but she doubted Raphael knew Isabelle's boy toy. His fingers looked more like claws, and his eyes were like a snake's, luminous in the night. His color was oddly pale, and so was his hair, such a fair color. It reminded her of Sebastian's.

"Immortality causes you to do unexpected things, Gaelic." Raphael answered. Clary wanted to protest, but something kept her quiet, she was to act out the part of "human subjugate" she got that much. "I need entrance to the court, now. We don't exactly have any time to spare."

"You're immortal, and the girl is almost." Gaelic answered.

"We need access, please." There was something about Raphael's voice, something that made Clary's mind fog over and want to fight against this fey, to fight against anything that got in her way, as long as it got Raphael and her into the court. Clary did not need to see the fey's expression to know that's how he felt as well. Another squeeze on the hip distracted her and she surfaced from the fog.

"Very well, I don't know if you'll get whatever it is you need but I will open the gates." He said, his words were slow, as if trying to fight them, but nevertheless, he walked back the way he'd came, Raphael and Clary followed; Clary was still aware of his hand on her waist.

"What's with the charade?" She said, trying to brush him off, unsuccessfully.

"It's for your protection. We're not getting help from the Seelie court, these fey don't know you're a Nephilim yet, and they certainly don't know you're Valentine's daughter. The most they will think of you is nothing more than my servant." Raphael said in a hushed tone, he never once turned his head.

"Then where are we getting help from?" Clary asked, fear creeping into her voice, absentmindedly she moved closer to Raphael.

"You thought the Seelie Court Faeries were tricky? Well, you're about the meet the ones who invented the damn word, the Unseelie Court. Don't speak unless it's absolutely necessary." Raphael ordered. Clary looked ahead into the dark, wishing that she had gone to the Seelie queen in the beginning for help instead; that surely had to be better than what Raphael had planned.


	7. Faces of the Dead

Yes, there really is an Unseelie Court, supposedly. The difference is these faeries were supposedly more vicious and associated with bad things, (disease, poverty, stolen items, stillborn children, etc.) All faerie are tricky, these are just worse apparently.

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><p>Chapter 7 Faces of the Dead<p>

The Unseelie court did not look any different from the Seelie court. It too, was underground, the difference was the entrance; which was through the gates of a mausoleum and down into what should be a crypt, but turned into a long tunnel that led further and further underground. Clary couldn't see where she was walking for most of the journey, depending on Raphael, something she would resent for the next twenty years.

At the end of the tunnel there was a faint light, not the glowing, almighty light one supposedly sees when dying, but a ghostly light, one that gave every warning for her to run, to get away as far as possible from this place; but it was too late. Raphael did not seem to need the fey, Gaelic, other than actually getting through the gates which seemed to open with some fey magic, he led Clary through the crowds and up a few flights of stairs and through a set of double, wide doors.

The crowds were not dancing. Unlike the Seelie Court, these fey seemed more menacing, more dangerous. What had Raphael said, _the ones who invented the word tricky? _Clary could believe that, she decided. These people looked like thieves and conmen; mixed with their unusual demonic qualities it was quite a sight.

Walking down the hall, they came to another set of doors, these were metal, etched with dark depictions of what Clary assumed were past battles and events; or predicted events. The fey, Gaelic, went through the doors and left Raphael and Clary standing there, alone. There were no guards, no cameras, no anything. Perhaps, in a world of thieves and criminals there is less need for government because people will not act out when the repercussions are most likely death.

"Clary, you're a wonderful actress, but I don't think this is necessary." Raphael's voice interrupted Clary's thoughts, dragging her back to the present and how she was wrapped around Raphael. Apparently she was more scared than she had realized because she had her arms wrapped around him, tight. Her body was pressed up against his and she had her head underneath his, resting against his chest. Clary looked up at him, having to lean back a little to look in his eyes. Granted, he had his arms around her, but they were loose, simply resting there. "You need to relax." Raphael said; Clary pulled away. Why hadn't she pulled away sooner? _I'm losing it that's why. Raphael's making me insane._

The fey came back, nodding to Raphael that they had permission to enter. Clary followed Raphael through the doors into what could not be described as anything less than a throne room. A dark, evil, hell bent thrown room, that is. There was a throne, set at the top of a few steps that made visitors feel puny in comparison. The walls were the problem though. There were spikes sticking out of them, spear like but thicker, pinning bodies to the walls. Clary focused in on the faces, they looked familiar, too familiar.

Clary tried to get closer to examine them, but Raphael grabbed her, holding her firmly in her place.

"So I've heard you are in need of something, Raphael. It wouldn't have to do with the war would it?" Clary's head turned back to the throne, there was a man there, or at least it seemed like a man. She could not really see his complexion because in the faint like he looked black, like the night sky black.

"We need entrance into Idris." Raphael said his expression looked bored, much like the Raphael Clary was used to. "It has come to my attention that although Valentine and his son are the only remaining Nephilim our world is no better off; and will most likely be expunged if they are not stopped."

"You want our help?"

"I know you have pathways to Idris, there's even one that leads straight into Alicante, is there not?" Raphael asked. Clary stared at the two of them_; they had a way into Alicante? The city? Her city? _

"You have reliable sources. Perhaps this would be best discussed after you both have had your rest, and a meal?" Clary flinched at the memory of the last fey court she had been to.

"I don't eat and neither does she." Raphael answered. _What was a human subjugate again? Someone who lived off a combination of vampire blood and animal blood_, Clary asked herself and held back the urge to gag. "We want access to Idris, that is all. Besides, you owe me" Raphael spoke smoothly, he did not look or sound irritated, he was too well practiced, but Clary felt it rolling off him. Apparently he was reaching his limit.

"I know my debts and I'll decide when or if I repay them." The kind, Clary guessed he was the king, sounded angry, Clary glanced at the bodies again, so very familiar.

"But wouldn't now be the best of times, it's such an easy way to repay me, after what I've done for you." Raphael stated, letting go of Clary and taking a step forward, the look was on is face again, the one from when he had convinced the fey to let them in.

"Don't try to manipulate me, Raphael. I'm not some foolish mundane. However, you have a point. Gaelic will escort you in the direction you wish." He responded, Clary felt his eyes on her but she did not look at him, she continued to focus on one of the bodies in particular, then it's head turned. It was alive.

_Barely alive_. Clary felt the urge to run towards the person, doing whatever she could to save him. The face, now that Clary could see was bloody, the eyes were faded, the lips split in many places, but Clary knew them. She had kissed those lips before, see the eyes bright with determination, it was Jace. Clary lurched forward, almost losing her balance, but Raphael pulled her back, towards the doors, and she kicked him. Nothing happened, he was to strong, she struggled, and kicked and screamed, that was Jace on the wall, how did he get here, how. Clary looked back up at the king, but she couldn't see him, everything was too dark.

"Tell me, mundane what do you see?" Clary heard the voice, but she could not see anything but Jace. And Isabelle. _Where had she come from?_ She was a little ways away from Jace on the wall but Clary could hear her, begging for help; Raphael was the one in the way.

There were others now, she recognized them all. Some she had only see once, but they were there, on that damned wall; all begging her for help, to save them. The voices filled her head, it was all too much, Clary gave up fighting Raphael, she did not have the energy; she watched the bodies struggle to get away from their imprisonment, it was useless.

Clary heard the door slam but it seemed far away. Then she was pushed up against the wall and Raphael was in her face.

"They're illusions!" He yelled at her, muttering something in Spanish. Clary was still numb to him though, she could her him; it was just a matter of processing it. Raphael walked away, muttering curses and probably damning her to hell. Clary sunk to the ground her eyes wide and stinging, but the tears would not come.

She watched Raphael for a moment, all of his façade was gone, like the night before. She got up using the wall for support and when she gained her balance, she steadily walked towards him. When she reached him, she set her hand on his chest to stop him and she looked up at him. His eyes were not really that dark, she realized, they were soft and warm, but filled with anger.

"I'm fine." She told him, her voice was soft, barely over a whisper.

"No you're not; but you're better." He said, Gaelic came back, and Clary's hand dropped from Raphael. All three of them stood there, trying to predict the other's actions. Finally Gaelic made a motion towards the left, (his right), and walked off. Raphael's hand returned to Clary's waist and for once Clary welcomed as they wandered through the halls.

Down the hall, Gaelic led them, finally coming to a door, nothing special about it, it was just a door. He opened it and waved them in, "Idris is the three doors on the right, and you may have your pick." He said, shutting the door, behind them.

This was going to be harder than they thought. The room was a huge square, and on all the other sides there were doors, there must have been fifty of them, lines up side by side, all leading different places. Clary turned back towards the door they had just come through, but there was no handle, no going back.

"Guess it's a one way deal." She muttered. _The three doors on the right? Which three doors?_ As Clary thought of the clances of getting the right door, Raphael walked up towards one, opened it and checked behind it, all Clary could see was a dim tunnel. Raphael checked a few more.

"They're all the same." Raphael answered Clary's unspoken question.

"Then how do we-" Clary began to ask, she was cut off by Raphael grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the first door on the right.

"I think we can take our chances." Raphael said, slamming the door behind them, the darkness closing in.


	8. Paradise Lost

So, I should probably give credit to John Milton who originally wrote the epic poem Paradise Lost. I just thought there was a similar theme in this chapter, not too much but the basic idea is there; and Hollywood Undead, because it's the name of one of their songs. :)

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><p>Chapter 8 Paradise Lost<p>

The tunnel was not as dark as Clary thought it originally was. Her eyes adjusted slowly, she could not tell where the light was coming from; it seemed engraved in the walls and floor and ceiling, like a mineral or crystal that gave a soft luminous glow; lighting the way down a path towards the unknown.

Beyond her, at the end of the tunnel was another faint light, much like the one that opened to reveal the Unseelie Court, except this light was a tease. One could pick a place on the wall where the light seemed to touch, then one would reach the spot on the wall and the light would be just as far as it was in the beginning. Despite Clary's agitation of the teasing light, she walked on in silence, the echo of her footsteps bouncing off the walls.

"Why did you take us to the Unseelie Court rather than the Seelie Court? The latter would have been more useful, nicer probably too." Clary asked, breaking the silence.

"Because the Seelie Court would have recognized you, and word spreads fast in downworld and would have quickly been picked up by your father's people. Also, the Unseelie Court owed me a favor from a while back, this way there was neither dealing nor possible tricking to be done on their part; although, they might have succeeded by sending us to that room with such vague direction." Raphael answered. His tone was formal, and a little lacking in the character Clary was coming to known him by. She glanced up at him; physically he looked fine, _better than fine really_, Clary put an end to that thought before it could go any farther. Yet, something was bothering him.

"When was the last time you had blood?" Clary asked, looking down at the ground, playing with her hands; a nervous habit.

"A while ago," was Raphael's answer, Clary could guess this was a conversation she did not want to get dragged into any farther, but it was too late when Raphael pulled her against him, she had forgot he still had his arm around her, and whispered into her ear, "If you're offering your side of the bargain early, I'd be glad to take you up on it." Raphael leaned in closer to her, and gently bit down on the shell of her ear, Clary could feel the slight pressure of his fangs.

Clary jumped away, out of Raphael's grasp. "Don't do that!" She yelled at him, he only laughed at her. Clary walked along the wall, which was really maybe only four or five feet away from him.

"What are you gonna do, hermosa? ¿Dibujar en mi?" Suddenly Raphael was right in her face; he had her backed up against the wall, his arms on either side of her. Raphael's question was, of course, referring to the stele in Clary's hand.

_I must have grabbed it on instinct_, Clary decided; _maybe I can stab him with it if I need to. Is a stele holy? Will it burn him? _All these thoughts raced through her head as Raphael pushed himself up against her, repositioning his hands at her waist, pinning her there. Clary dropped the stele and pushed against his chest, but the effort was pointless. She looked up at him, he seemed a lot taller up close, no as tall as Jace, but enough to make her feel small. Looking into his eyes, she could really see the hunger now, the lack of blood, the lack of control; but he did not look dangerous. At least, not any more dangerous than he normally looked, he was not dangerous in the 'I'm going to bite and kill you now' way.

"What are you going to do, hermosa?" Raphael asked again, more softly this time as he leaned in, his mouth no more than an inch from hers. Clary tried pushing against him again; it was futile; she looked down to where her stele was, out of reach. Raphael followed her gaze and kicked the stele a good ten feet away. She looked back up at him, her eyes daring him to try anything. "¿Qué vas a hacer, hermosa?" Raphael brushed his finger along Clary's jaw, such a soft gesture, it threw Clary off for a moment: she regained control quickly though, and kept her eyes locked on Raphael.

"Well I'm going to start by getting my stele back, and then I think I'll proceed to kicking your ass." Clary meant for it to sound harsh, strong, even mean, but her voice failed her and the words came out uneven, her voice soft and husky. Quickly she shut up and focused on her breathing, trying to steady the pace.

"Really? How?" Raphael dropped his head and ran his lips over her pulse; Clary sucked in a breath, to sharp, her heart fluttering against her rib cage. Clary said nothing, she was at loss for words, on one hand she should be doing everything to her ability to get away from Raphael, she should be kicking and screaming; on the other hand she did not want to get away. Clary could feel his tongue circle slowly over her pulse, and then, he bit down.

Clary gave a short yelp as he bit harder; her hands shot up and became entangled in his hair, the soft, black curls tickling her skin. Her eyes partially closed as one of Raphael's hands rapped around the small of her back, pressing her against him, while the other ran up her spine and grabbed her hair, pulling on it granting him better access to her neck.

Clary was sure a moan or two escaped her lips, as Raphael kissed, bit, and sucked at her neck; his lips trailing up her neck and along her jaw to the corner of her partially opened mouth. "How?" He asked again, his lips brushing hers, teasing her.

It took a bit of time for Clary to register the question. She looked into his eyes, filled with want, and her gaze dropped to his lips. "You didn't drink." It was the simplest thing that came to her mind and it took every brain cell she had to get the words out. There was no blood on his lips; even her neck, though it was sore, did not feel punctured.

"No, I'll stick with our original deal, this," Raphael spoke referring to the current situation, "this is just an added bonus." He finished, Clary tried to protest, but Raphael pressed his lips against hers and slipped his tongue inside her mouth, cutting off any remaining thought process Clary had.

Jace had always kissed Clary with care and love. As if she would break if not handled gently. Raphael's kiss had none of that. It was fierce and hungry and threatened to drown her in a sea of want; and she wanted to drown in it, she wanted to drown in it so badly, the need pulsing through her body.

Clary let her hands wander up and down his chest, his arms, his shoulders, her hand coming resting over where his heart should beat; of course there was no beat. _He's a vampire_; Clary's mind could barely make the mental connection, _a very strong, very beautiful, and very aroused vampire. _Her mind registered the danger this situation may pose, but she pushed it away, to focused on Raphael to care.

Clary was aware of Raphael's hands, for the most part they stayed where they were, one on the small of her back pressing her middle against his, and the other in her hair, keeping her under his control. _He always has to have control, doesn't he?_ Clary thought. Then his hand moved from her hair, down along her collar bone, and finally came to rest when he grabbed her breast.

"Raphael we can't!" Clary gasped as his hand fondled her. She turned her head to the side partly so she could focus, partly so Raphael could not reach her.

"Yes we can," Raphael said with his lips against her cheek, "all we have to do is to get rid of our clothes; and I can make short work of that." Raphael's hand moved from her breast up to the collar line of her shirt, lightly tugging on it.

"No, Raphael we can't, not here not now not-" Clary's words faded as Raphael grabbed her chin and gently turned her head to face him. She could not say the last word; her mind would not process it and her lips could not form the word and her voice dried up. _Ever_, she thought but thinking the word was the most she could manage.

Raphael said nothing, his expression unreadable. He tilted her chin up towards him and gently kissed her; his lips were softer than Clary would have thought possible. He pulled away, his hands brushing her hips, she was no longer pinned between Raphael and the wall, and she could breathe freely. "You're right, now is not the time for this, nor is this the place. However, I don't take lightly to a tease and I can guarantee that when it happens, everyone will hear you scream my name, begging for more."

* * *

><p>The rest of the walk was very quiet. Raphael's threat was echoing in Clary's mind. In fact, the whole scene was playing over and over in her head, why did she not stop him? Why? Now she was wondering if there was any way out of the current, and future, situations.<p>

They reached the end of the tunnel, which lead to another door, _please be Idris_, Clary begged, _I need this to all be over. _Clary reached for the handle, opened the door a crack and looked through on the other side. It was an alley way, the ground was dusty and there was boxes stacked against one wall, _maybe a shopping district_? But it was Idris, Alicante to be more exact, Clary would have recognized the place even if it was two miles underground and reduced to rubble.

She opened the door wider and walked through, Raphael followed. Everything was quiet, very eerily quiet. Clary walked towards the opening of the alley, and peaked around a corner. She could see demons. Demons and forsaken posted along the streets, at corners. Guards. There were a few Nephilim guards, ones Valentine must have created with the cup, _his new army_. Clary vaguely recalled that part of Valentine's plan. There were no children, no talking, no anything. The shops were closed, the lights in the houses were off, and even the sky seemed darker.

"Oh what a charming place this is." Raphael said his voice sarcastic and mocking. Clary turned on him. Every ounce of anger bubbled up from inside her. Her anger at Valentine for ruining her life, at Sebastian for betraying her, at Jace for abandoning her, at Raphael for making her feel like a fool, for Magnus being useless, every little thing that has ticked herself off since Valentine's wish came to the surface.

"How about you just keep your damn opinion to yourself for once?" Clary yelled, forgetting the guards nearby, her mind hazed over with rage. Raphael raised his eyebrows at her, but that was the most he reacted. Somehow, that managed to piss Clary off more. She hit him; Clary did not actually know how to through a punch but she had seen it on TV before. That was enough right? She hit him square in the jaw, knocking his head back; Clary did not even notice the throbbing of her hand. She was already raising her fist again when something grabbed her arm from behind and spun her around. She heard a scuffle behind her, as someone called out; it was not Raphael. Clary stopped struggling against her captor; she looked him right in the eyes and wanted to scream.

"Hello little sister, my father is so glad you're still alive; but I don't know what he'll say about the company you seem to have been keeping lately," Sebastian rubbed his free hand along her sore neck. Sebastian turned to an accomplice, "Find the bloodsucker, don't come back until you've got him, alive. I'm sure Valentine would love to meet Clary's new lover." Sebastian turned, dragging Clary along_. My stele? Where-_ Clary thought to herself, _it's still in the tunnel, where ever Raphael kicked it too. _

Clary stopped struggling, it was pointless anyways, she would have more luck once Sebastian let go and locked her up somewhere. She looked at the sky, it was lighter, and to the east she could see the sun rising. _The sun was rising! Raphael! _Clary started struggling, more despretly, she even landed a pretty good kick to the back of Sebastian's knee. He let go for a second as he fell down, Clary ran. She only got a few yards before something heavy thudded against the back of her head and she fell to the ground, the light leaving her.


	9. Sunrise Sunset

I'm sorry this chapter took so long, I got writer's block and just a little distracted, but hey I made up for it, it's really long.

* * *

><p>Chapter 9 Sunrise Sunset<p>

The cuff that held Clary hostage was attached to a rod which was attached to the bedroom wall, the very bed room Clary had woke up in. It was not fancy or anything, but it was enough to put her at ease so she could sit up and think straight. Except the damn cuff was so tight it dug into her skin; she had spent half an hour, trying to pull her wrist through the cuff, fifteen minutes trying to squeeze her hand through the cuff, and the last ten minutes cradling her wounded, bloody wrist.

The cuff had a long enough chain she could wander around the room, reach the desk, the bed, the dresser, and the bathroom on the side opposite the barred window; to her inconvenience the window was just beyond her grasp.

So Clary sat on the bed, planning. There was nothing in the room she could use as a weapon; the desk had no pens and no paper, it was obviously just a space filler. The chair for the desk was nailed to the floor, there was just enough space for her to squeeze herself between the desk and chair and sit. The dresser had clothes in it for her, which she had already taken advantage of. There was no door handle on her side of the room, and there was one window, which was barred, tinted, and out of reach.

The bathroom had normal necessities, but nothing that could be used as a weapon_. If only toothpaste was Sebastian's kryptonite, then I might stand a chance_, Clary thought. That was all she could do, think; until someone showed up to save her, and the only person who knew she was being held captive was currently in hiding. _Damn the sun!_

Clary could hear footsteps behind the door, then keys rattling, and finally the soft click of the lock. Her first thought was Jace, but he was dead; so her second thought was Raphael, who ironically is also dead, but who she got was Valentine; the first person on her list of enemies and the last person she wanted to see.

"I was wondering when you would show up." He said calmly, his black eyes on Clary. Funny, that was the second time she had heard that in the past forty-eight hours. Apparently, everyone was expecting her. Clary said nothing only glared at him, trying to force all of her hate through her eyes so he would know just how much pain he had caused her. "That's childish, Clary. I'm your father and we both know you are capable of using your words." His voice said he was speaking to an equal, his word choice felt like a slap in the face, demeaning.

"I don't have anything to say to you." Clary said, she sat on the bed legs and arms crossed leaning against the bar, which was awkward with the bar poking the middle of her back.

"I highly doubt that. You mean to say you hid for two weeks, went back to New York City for help, and came back here, planning to destroy my success without saying a word? And with a _vampire_, none the less." Valentine practically spit the last sentence. Vampire. Downworlder, there was no difference to him, they were all scum. "I'm very disappointed in you, Clary. I had thought your choice in boys was better, although Jonathan did need to grow up a bit." It took Clary a minute to figure out he was talking about Jace, and then it all clicked. She looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror above the desk (which happened to be placed in the wall so she could not break the glass.) and saw her neck, covered in purple and blue bruises that no mundane or Nephilim could ever make. To her disappointment, she felt herself blush.

"When did you realize I was still alive?" Clary asked, looking at the floor, hiding her redden cheeks.

"Not until you showed up here, actually. It was a miscalculation of mine, in all my successful bliss I miss spoke when I wished upon the Angel; but a minor one." Valentine quickly added; Clary had gotten the underlying message: I make mistakes, I'm still human, and he should have just said I'm still mortal.

"So when are you going to kill me?" Clary asked.

"I would prefer not to. You are still my daughter, just led down the wrong path, so to speak. I already have other Nephilim in my service thanks to the cup, and there's always Jonathan." _Sebastian, that's who he meant._

"You really think you can wipe out all the downworlders? There's thousands upon thousands. They'll finish you off before you even obliterate one of the races." Clary said, she glanced up at him, he had a faint smile at his lips, kind of like Raphael's, but this one was not playful.

"I have a pretty good head start. The wards will pinpoint any warlock who uses his or her magic, the fey and the vampires are cornered in their nests, and the werewolves are as disorganized as always. I have a five year plan." Valentine said; Clary stared at him blankly.

"You sound like a guy who just set up a savings account." Clary said, there was no humor in her voice, but Valentine gave a short laugh.

"Maybe more of an investment account; but yes, it is similar isn't it?" Clary did not answer. She had a gut feeling she was not supposed to, or it was just that feeling that whatever came out of her mouth would just get her into more trouble.

"I came here to see if there is anything you need or want. There are restrictions though until I can fully trust you, but perhaps there is something." Valentine offered.

"I want my boyfriend back." Clary stated.

"I hope you are referring to Jace, and not that bloodsucker." Valentine sighed, "It was a shame to lose Jonathan, but it was a loss that is minor compared to the goal." He actually sounded sincere, but Clary stopped herself, this was the man who had conned his friends into starting an uprising, then abandoned them when they needed him most.

"Yeah? Well how about all the others? People you grew up with, their kids, their families, my friends, the people who were once your allies? Were they all worth losing as well? Do you regret any of that loss? All because of your selfish, racist views of downworlders." Clary spat the words at him, her temper rising.

"I'm starting to regret the choice to keep you alive." Valentine admitted; his eyes narrowing in distaste. "Perhaps you are already too attached to the downworlders. Perhaps it's already too late for you."

"It's not too late for me; I'll be out of here soon, just like you'll be lying in an unmarked grave soon. That is if there's even a body left." Clary watched as Valentine shook his head, turned, and walked out, leaving her alone.

* * *

><p>Clary had fallen asleep again. It was not her fault, the minutes felt like hours, there was no clock, the only way to tell the time was the light outside her window which was now a pale pink that morphed into deep purple, <em>please let that be sunset and not sunrise<em>, Clary begged to no one in particular.

In the end it did not matter no one came to help her.

* * *

><p>For the next three days it was the same, someone always brought Clary food and asked if she needed anything. Then Valentine would come in, try and talk some "sense" into her, he even released her from the cuff that held her to the wall, and he offered to let her go outside for an hour or two so she could stretch her legs, guarded of course, Clary always said no.<p>

Eventually her conscious kicked in and convinced her she had to get herself out of here. So the next day when Valentine offered to release her, she complied.

Valentine had pretty much made the home of the clave and council his home. He guided her through the halls and up and down the stairs; the place was bigger than she had initially thought. Her room was actually located where they held prisoners; it had just been made up to look a little different, nicer.

There were not too many guards around, course Valentine did not really take prisoners. So getting out of the room would be the hard part. Getting out of the building itself should be easy even for her. _But if I do run into problems, I have nothing to defend myself with_. Clary thought, _not even a stele this time._

Outside the sun was high, noon probably. Although the city was still beautiful, the initial destruction of the war had been cleared away, it was still hauntingly silent.

Clary returned to her room, and planned, the door only opened from the outside, that was problem number one.

"Can I have some paper and pencils?" Clary asked absently, trying to any hint of her plan.

"You have a liking for drawing if I remember correctly. I believe Jonathan mentioned that before; since you seem to be complying without resistance, yes. I will have someone bring some down to you within the hour." Valentine seemed thoughtful as he said the words, he also seemed confident that she was on his side. All the better for her.

* * *

><p>Clary had been sketching away at the paper in front of her for a good two hours, trying to make something that looked professionally done, but her mind was too distracted with fear and adrenaline. <em>This has to go right<em>, Clary thought. Then when she had a pretty good picture of the street she had grown up on, she ripped it a third of the way down the middle.

"Damn it!" She screamed, loud enough to be heard from the other side. She kept up her streak of cussing and yelling until someone came running and promptly threw the door open. To her dismay that person was Sebastian. Clary just stared at him, this was not the person she wanted, the person who brought her food would have been better, even Valentine himself would have been better.

"What happened?" He asked, he sounded bored, but there was a knife in his hand bigger than Clary's forearm that suggested otherwise so she kept her cool.

"I ripped my picture." Clary said innocently; trying to play the incompetent little sister.

"Draw another one." Sebastian said as he turned to leave.

"I can't just draw another one. Do you know how long this took? Art isn't like a copy machine, you can't just make another one, it will always end up a little different." Clary argued. Sebastian stood at the door, his head down and sighed.

"Fine. I'll find some tape." He walked out the door, Clary smiled sweetly.

* * *

><p>Sebastian had given the tape to her an hour ago and now the picture hung on the wall, colored with blues and grays which gave it a somber look. She was working on her second masterpiece when the person who brought her food came. Clary tore a piece of the tape off and wrapped it around her thumb.<p>

Clary held the door open for the lady, who was completely shocked and ready to call for back up.

"No, no don't do that. I'm sorry if I scared you, it's just you've been so kind to me, I feel awful for not ever trying to help you before." Clary said, "What's your name?"

"Mary-Ann. The women said, her eyes were still questionable, but she thanked Clary none the less. Clary quickly tapped over the inside of the door so it would not shut right when closed, and by the time Mary-Ann had turned around, Clary was already standing next to her ready to eat.

"Thank you." Clary said as polite as can be. Mary-Ann left without a word. The door shut, but it did not click. Clary would be free as soon as the sun fell.

* * *

><p>Clary had decided to sleep her way through the last few hours, trying to get some rest, but instead she lay there, her head spinning with possibilities of tonight. She tried pacing around, but the motion seemed to make her adrenaline worse so she sat down and looked out the window. Her thoughts wandered to Raphael, she had kept thoughts of him at the back of her mind<em>, if the guards never got him then the sun probably did, or his hunger<em>, Clary thought recalling how weak he had looked the last time she saw him. Clary did not want to believe it, he was jerk and an ass, but she still needed his help.

Clary guessed it had to be about two in the morning and most people would be asleep by now. So she tiptoed over to the door as best she could, her boots made the effort pointless though. She edged the door open, and poked her head out; there was one guard at the end of the hall. Clary closed the door and glanced around the room, _could she strangle him with a tee-shirt? Probably not._ But she had pencils, really sharp pencils.

Clary grabbed a pencil, it would probably break before it did any real harm, but it was something, when she heard a commotion outside, there was fighting, and then another sound to horrific to describe. Clary had to dare herself to look out the door; the guard was on the floor, surrounded in blood, dead. Then Raphael was in her face again. Clary had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming.

"You sure took your sweet time getting here." She whispered, he smiled at her and pushed her back inside the room, closing the door behind him. Clary now took in the sight of him, he did not look weak like the last time she had seen him. He had blood on his shirt, the guards blood no doubt, his fangs were still out and there were traces of blood around his mouth and on his hands. He grabbed a towel out of the bathroom and wiped the blood off the best he could.

"A pencil? That was your defense against enemies, a pencil?" Raphael looked at her incredulously. Clary felt herself blush.

"It's all I had!" her voice rose, defending her pathetic weaponry.

"It's a good thing I didn't get here later then." Raphael said, "Poor guard would have died of a pencil attack." Then Raphael tossed something at her; Clary dropped the pencil to catch it. It was her stele.

"I didn't plan to kill him. And if I did a pencil would have been better than what you did. You drank him dry you- you" Clary could not think of a name harsh enough to describe him right now.

"I wouldn't say that. I'd say about half his blood spilled on the floor when I ripped his throat out." Raphael said it matter of factly, there was not a hint of remorse in his voice.

"Well we better get out of here before more guards show up." Clary said, walking out the door.

"I wouldn't mind seconds." Raphael said, his voice was light but he followed her regardless.

* * *

><p>Like Clary had suspected getting out was the easy part. They walked through the halls, and out the front door.<p>

"It cannot be this easy," Clary muttered. She turned towards Raphael, he said nothing, he was too busy looking ahead into the dark.

"There's nobody there." He spoke, but his eyes seemed fixed on something.

"But something else is." Clary finished for him, they were losing precious time standing there, out in the open, and the cold was beginning to dig into her skin.

"I think it's harmless."

"Demons don't look human, and they're not exactly harmless." Clary pointed out, she could not see anything so she was relying on Raphael in this case; so when he walked forward, she followed. "I can make a portal with the stele."

"I bet you anything the wards were repaired after your brother destroyed them. We use that thing for a portal out of here; we'll be dead before we get to the other side." Clary stayed silent after that, walking towards whatever "it" was. As it turned out "it" was not a demon. "It" was Magnus. He was just dressed up in such a way he did not even look human, and from the distance they had originally been, even Raphael could not tell what it was.

"Magnus!" Clary yelled, only to have Raphael wrap his arm around her and cover her mouth with his hand.

"What are you doing here, warlock?" Raphael asked, loosening his grip on Clary.

"Word got out Valentine captured a certain stubborn, short Nephilim. I was going to play rescuer, it seems you beat me to it." He replied, "Although I didn't want to recognizable to foes so I used a spell to alter others' view of me. Someone knocked the wards out in New York, they're probably repaired by now but the damage was great enough to call in reinforcements from Alicante. That is why this place is abandoned." He said, answering their next question.

"Can you get us out of here?" Clary asked, making sure she did not speak above a whisper.

"I don't see the point in that, you needed to get here, you're here, and going back would only be taking a step back in progress, but I know a place where I can take you. It's out of the way far enough that Valentine won't come searching for you." Magnus said, Clary did not argue, any place was better than here at the moment.

"Who knocked the wards out?" Raphael asked, his face was blank, again he looked bored, but Clary had come to know that as his "business expression."

"There are plenty of rumors, the one you'd be interested in would be that a certain blue-haired, Asian, vampire led a group into the guarded area, successfully wiped out the guards, and shut the wards down." The corners at Magnus's mouth raised, Raphael mumbled something in Spanish.

"Can we just get out of here already?" Clary asked, she sounded a bit like an annoying little kid, but she did not care, if Nephilim were about to start parading through this area she did not want to be here when they did.

"A please would have been nice." Magnus said, and started the process to make the portal.

* * *

><p>Magnus took them to a small building, guarded by trees so thick Clary could not even see the building until it was ten feet in front of her.<p>

"They still have these?" Clary jumped at Raphael's voice, she had not realized how close he was.

"Yes. A few, this one is probably in the best condition." Magnus answered. "Alicante is that way" He waved his hand towards the right. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to figure out if I can go home or not, I'll be back soon." And he disappeared; the only thing that remained was a few traces of glitter on the ground that caught the moonlight.

"What exactly is 'one of these'?" Clary asked.

"Downworld safe houses, I thought the Nephilim destroyed them during the witch hunts." Raphael answered; he walked up the steps and inside, Clary trailing after him.

The place was smaller than she had thought. There were a few empty cabinets, a couch that probably pulled out into a bed, a bathroom and a back room that turned out to be a bedroom. Raphael dropped onto the couch, his hands behind his head, his gaze steady on Clary.

"What?" Clary asked she sounded accusing which in a way she was.

"You owe me. Twice now; I suggest you start paying up."

"You helped me escape, I owe you once." Clary corrected; she placed one hand on her hip and held up the other with one finger up to add emphasis.

"Yeah, but you hit me really hard." Raphael said, he leaned forward, arms out, with an innocent expression on his face.

"Well you can have the bed, there I repaid you." Clary said, sitting down on the couch, as far away as possible.

"Are you going to be in the bed as well?" Raphael asked; Clary avoided his gaze.

"No."

"Then I don't want the bed." Raphael finished. His hands went back up behind his head as he pretended to be asleep, but Clary could feel him glance at her every once in a while.

"Fine we'll both just stay awake all night and day, then when Valentine comes, we'll get our butts handed to us since we'll be too tired to put up a decent fight." Clary said, Raphael scoffed.

"You're the one who'll get their ass kicked, I'm not even tired and I can stay awake for days." He was right; Clary could feel the energy flow out of her; her eyelids were getting heavy, drooping lower and lower. Her brain did not even want to try and come back with a witty comeback. "I could carry you to the bedroom." Raphael offered; it was innocent enough, but Clary did not trust him.

"I'm comfortable here." Clary said, curling up in the corner of the couch and laying her head down on the arm of the couch.

"You're lying." His tone was flat, and before Clary could stop him he grabbed her, pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her so her head was resting on his shoulder.

"And you're a control freak." Clary muttered against him. She felt rather than heard his laugh as he tightened his arm around her; which only emphasized her statement.


	10. That's Personal

Chapter 10 That's Personal

When Clary woke, only a hint of sunlight made it through the thick curtains. The room was dark but she could tell she was not on the couch. Something fluffy lay beneath her head, she lifted her head slightly and through blurry vision she figured out it was a pillow. She had blankets drawn up to her chin and she was huddled under them, only now did she recognize the cold bite of the morning air.

She looked over towards the door, it was shut. She glanced around the rest of the room; there was not anything of real importance a tiny closet that was all. Finally, something caught her attention in the corner of her eye. She turned her head to look at the spot next to her in the bed. And there he was. Sleeping on his stomach, his head turned away from her so all she could see was the back of his head, the blankets were down around his waist so she had a full view of his upper body, and-

"Where the hell is your shirt?" Clary yelled, she rolled away from him, and successfully fell off the bed, dragging the covers down with her. She landed with a hard thump on the ground; her head hit the nearby wall. Raphael rolled over onto his side, and looked at her through sleepy, half open eyes.

"Qué?" He asked; Clary stared at him. "What?" He repeated in English; running his fingers through his hair.

"Where is your shirt? Why are you in the bed? Hell, why am I in the bed?" Clary yelled, the questions were all jumbled together.

"I have a better question, why are you yelling on the floor at twelve in the afternoon?" Raphael said; without the covers over him, Clary could see he also was not wearing any pants, just his boxers, and the look looked damn good on him. Clary looked away before she blushed.

"Because you're not wearing any clothes!" Clary sounded frantic.

"Most girls would complain that I still have my boxers on," Raphael stated, sitting up on the other side of the bed he got up, the muscles in this back rippling under his skin. "Besides my shirt still has blood on it."

"You could have slept on the couch." Clary said; she was sitting in the corner, the blankets piled up on her, she took a quick glance at herself; thank the Angel, she still had her clothes on.

"Nah, that wouldn't have been very comfortable." He grabbed his pants and put them on, leaving his chest bare as he walked over to her and offered his hand to help her up. Clary looked at the hand like it would shock her if she touched it. Raphael rolled his eyes and grabbed her around her upper arm, hoisting her up.

"I didn't need your help." Clary said; looking at anything in the room but Raphael. She cursed herself, again she was cornered by him, not to mention defenseless if he tried anything.

"Why are you uncomfortable?" He stepped forward, "You shouldn't be, considering you were with angel boy for what? At least a month?" He asked as he grabbed her injured wrist, more gently than she expected. He ran his fingers along the scars. "And what happened here?"

"I'm uncomfortable because you refuse to let our relationship remain-" Clary mentally stumbled for the right word, "nonsexual." She finished it did not sound right; in fact, it sounded like it was promoting just the opposite type of relationship. "And I was never "with" Jace, at least not in the context you're speaking of." Clary tried to side step around Raphael; he blocked her. "And as for the wrist," Clary tried to finish, but the words were all jumbled up in her head, they all wanted to spill out at once it seemed. "I was-it was- chained to the wall."

"Chained to the wall?" Raphael asked, his eyes lit up and Clary knew she was going to regret telling him that. "How?"

"What do you mean how? There aren't many different ways you can be chained to a wall." Clary said, pulling back her wrist, surprisingly Raphael let it go.

"The bar above your bed, I'm guessing that was what you were chained to?" He said, the corners of his lips turning up.

"Oh no! Do not go there!" Clary warned.

"Go where? I have no idea what you're talking about, hermosa."

"Yes you do, you know exactly what I'm talking about because you started this whole conversation with all you're stupid innuendoes!" Clary's voice was rising, her temper flaring; Raphael seemed to have that effect on her.

"Really? Then what are you talking about? Cause I swear I have no idea." He had that innocent look in his eyes again; Clary did not buy it.

"Yes you do you're thinking-" Clary paused; there was no way she was going to say what she thought he was thinking out loud. "Very bad things," she finished lamely. Raphael laughed.

"Wanna add any more description to that?"

"Not really." Clary muttered, she darted to the left, but Raphael grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against his front, as he leaned into the corner.

"Are you sure? I don't think I'm getting a good enough picture." He said, his breath curling the hair against her temples.

"Yes I'm sure!" Clary struggled, "I'm not telling you anything, nor am I ever doing anything with you, kinky or not! So how about you just leave me alone!" His arm was too tight around her; she pulled at it, she even tried scratching but the red marks she left healed up almost instantly.

"If you think cuffs are kinky you've lived a more sheltered life than I thought." The sound of Raphael's voice made her struggle even more. Clary twisted around in his arms so she could see him. She had one fist raised, ready to hit Raphael. "You never slept with the little, angel boy did you?" Raphael asked, he grabbed her fist before she could hit him pinning it against her side.

"No I didn't!"

"Surprising, he's earned himself a reputation over the years, at least that's what I've heard." Raphael said, Clary froze but only for a second. His words took time to sink in but Clary refused to believe it. Raphael's head cocked to the side, "You haven't slept with anyone." He said it like a question.

Clary blushed, it felt like her whole body was blushing, but she didn't answer. Yes, he was right; she had not slept with anyone. And she certainly was not going to sleep with Raphael. He waited for her to answer, but Clary's voice had officially left her.

"That explains a lot doesn't it?" That look in his eyes was back; the one that threatened to make her blush and struggle to get away even more if that was even physically possible.

"That's personal." Was Clary's only answer. She dropped, well she tried too. Trying to catch Raphael by surprise she let her legs give and tried to drop to the ground; therefore, slipping through the arms that were holding her. In reality, she successfully caught him by surprise, although he reacted faster than she had planned and she ended up scrambling to the other side of the room and out the door.

"It's not a bad thing really." Raphael followed her out the door. "Personally, I think it's hot."

"Well good for you, I don't care if you think it's hot or not just leave me alone."

"What's hot?" Clary's head whipped towards the couch where Magnus was sitting, his eyes were covered in blue black glitter, and what must have been his cat sat in his lap.

"Clary's a virgin." Raphael answered. Her head turned back towards Raphael, her mouth gaped.

"What? Are you just going to tell the whole word now? How about you just make a huge sign and advertise it!" Clary yelled at him.

"Now I know why my parents told me to knock." Magnus muttered. Clary could see his cat eyes taking in the situation: Raphael had no shirt on and his jeans rested low on his hips; both Clary and Raphael had a bad case of bed head, and Clary's shirt was all crooked no doubt thanks to her earlier escape from Raphael's arms. "I'm guessing one of you will say it's not what it looks like." Magnus stated, he had stopped petting Chairmen Meow and had started examining his electric blue nails.

"Well it kind of is," Raphael started but was quickly cut off by Clary.

"No! He's lying! I swear it is NOT what it looks like." Clary's face was burning, Raphael smirked at her.

"Really? Because to me it looks like you two were going to have sex, or that you had already had sex and were going for seconds," Magnus paused, "perhaps it would be best if we worked out a schedule, maybe set a few hours aside or put a sock on the door? I wouldn't want to interrupt anything." Magnus finished sarcastically. His eye brows were raised, looking at Clary for an answer; Clary felt like fainting; Raphael, for once, kept his mouth shut. "Well? Do either of you have any better ideas?"

"There won't be a need for any of that, Magnus." Clary choked out.

"I truly hope you aren't lying. Now, I'm here because the wards still seem to be down in New York. Amazing isn't it? That Lily girl did a wonderful job, her and the others tearing up the wards and everything," Magnus glanced at Raphael, whose face barely masked his anger. "However, I took a quick peek back at Alicante; they know you've escaped, Clary. And they aren't happy; Valentine has a search party, although it may as well be a hunting party." He finished, Clary could feel the chills dancing up and down her spine, "I suggest now would be a good time to get a little more help. Luke has managed to round up some of the werewolves and has offered his help."

"No." Raphael's voice was soft, but it was the underlying tone that sent up a warning flag to Clary. This was not going to go over well.

"You need the help." Magnus countered; _Magnus would probably rather be off buying hair dye or exotic clothes_, Clary thought; then stopped, the picture was too easy to see in her mind_. Magnus dressed up in some exotic outfit from three hundred years ago?_ Clary did not need that history lesson.

"I'll get some of the vampires to help; they seem to want the fight anyways." Raphael replied, Clary knew to stay out of this. Downworld politics, like Simon had mentioned once, was something she did not want to be a part of.

"What do you think, Clary?" _So much for that._

"Well," Clary glanced at Raphael who was staring her down; she looked over to Magnus, his expression, though bored, was encouraging enough. "I think it's time we get some help. If Valentine already has a Nephilim army then we are going to need more than us three." At that, Raphael turned and walked back into the bedroom; Clary stood there not sure what to do.

"He'll get over it." Magnus stood, the cat rolled off his lap, landed on all fours, and gave a hiss before trotting off somewhere. Magnus walked over to stand in front of Clary; he grabbed her damaged wrist and held it between his hands. "What is your current relationship with Raphael?" He asked; too soft for Raphael to hear, there was concern in his voice.

"There isn't one. I swear. Just a few unfortunate mishaps."

"Are you sure?" He asked, "Raphael might be charming but he's a deceptive bastard when it comes to getting what he wants; what he _truly_ wants." Magnus warned. His voice was barely audible to Clary.

"I'm positive there is nothing, there will be nothing." At that Magnus leaned down, and whispered into Clary's ear.

"I know how Simon became the daylighter, your blood is like Jace's; and the first chance Raphael gets when you are truly alone and truly defenseless, he'll bite you. Why do you think he's so eager to get you in bed?"

"Magnus, I already offered my blood in the deal I made to get his help. Either way, when this is all over he'll be a daylighter." Clary was surprised to hear remorse in her voice. At the time of the deal she was too busy contemplating how terrifying it would be to get bit by a vampire; but now, she was filled with regret. Magnus sighed and stood up to his full height.

"Then you have nothing to lose. I'll talk to Luke while you both get ready. When you both are ready to leave or if there's an emergency brush your finger over this," Magnus slid one of the many rings on his fingers off and pressed it in to Clary's palm and he closed her fingers around it. "And I mean it. Any kind of emergency." Magnus turned his head in the direction of the bedroom door and Clary got the silent message. He stepped back and faded away.

Clary looked down and opened her hand; the ring was gold and had an amber stone set into it. Clary slipped it onto her middle finger and it adjusted itself to the right size. Clary glanced at her wrist, the one that Magnus had been holding the whole time.

The scars and the blood were gone.

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><p>So this Chapter is pretty much just a filler, although it was like the hardest to write. Certain scenes are such a pain :P I'll give everyone a warning though, I am just winging it; so I dunno how long this fic will go on for.<p> 


	11. Feuding

Since everyone seems to think Raphael is going to become a daylighter, I'll let you in on a secret: he's not. If he ever became a daylighter he'd probably take of the world or wipe out the werewolves and Nephilim, which are probably things an egomaniac would do; which he kind of is.

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><p>Chapter 11 Feuding<p>

"I thought we had a deal." Raphael said as Clary walked through the bedroom door; his voice was emotionless. Clary shut the door gently and walked over to stand in front of Raphael.

"We did. I agreed we'd go as long as possible without the werewolves and we have." Clary's voice started out strong, but one look in Raphael's eyes and her spirit started to wane. "But now it's time to ask for help, we're going to need it." Clary finished, her voice had become noticeably quieter at the end. The silence between then felt constricting, _I'd take him annoying me every day over this_, Clary thought, _He looks like he could snap my neck right about now. _

"We don't need their help yet; we're not that desperate." Raphael's words were slow; coldly calculating her next move, Clary felt like she was being hunted with the way he was looking down at her.

"Then what do you propose we do?" Clary asked her voice slightly higher than normal. Clary quickly cut him off by adding, "And we can't get help from the other vampires this is going to be a day thing as well as a night thing." Clary finished.

"Don't interrupt me," was Raphael's response.

"I didn't."

"You cut me off, same thing." Raphael's fingertips trailed along her jaw, but it was not any type of seduction. It was nothing less than a threat; Clary clenched her hand at her sides to keep from knocking his hand away; which would only piss him off more and that would not be wise.

"Well do you have any other ideas?" Clary asked; Raphael picked up on the annoyance in her voice although she had tried to hide it.

Raphael took his time answering, his fingers were playing with her hair now in an absent minded way when he said, "We should stick to the original plan, getting the dogs organized to help us will take too long and if Valentine's army is growing as fast as they say, then we don't have very long. I'll admit, however, we need to get you some weaponry; I can't protect you all the time, ángel." He smiled at the last part, a mocking smile, meant to make Clary feel small; all it really did was piss her off.

"Maybe we don't have time to get any weapons," Clary said in mocked innocence; Raphael's eyes narrowed and Clary caught a flash of his fangs. "If we have time to get weapons we have time to go negotiate with werewolves." Clary said, trying to imitate Raphael's tone. All he did was smile back at her.

"Very well." Raphael brushed past her through the door;_ he still doesn't have his shirt on_, Clary noted. Raphael had agreed, more easily than Clary had expected, which only made her more certain Raphael had some plan in his head for revenge.

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><p>The sun had just set when they arrived in downtown New York City, Magnus had been kind enough to grab the bags Clary and Raphael had left with the motorcycle, and to Clary's relief, Raphael finally put a shirt on.<p>

To Clary's surprise there was almost no one out, and it was downtown New York for crying out loud! The lights were on and occasionally a person would wander through the light, but other than that the restaurants, clubs, and any local hang outs were empty.

"What happened?" The works came from Clary's lips, the sight was so eerie and incomprehensible that Clary was sure Magnus had misdirected them and they had ended up in an alternate dimension.

"The state government put the city on a curfew, 8 o'clock. They think it's a gang issue right now, but eventually they'll realize they're in the middle of a war. The state government seems to be handling it and said something about subsidizing the businesses for their revenue loss over the night hours, but I wouldn't be surprised if the national government gets involved soon." Magnus looked serious which baffled Clary; even Raphael seemed stunned, his eyes regarding the area with curiosity.

"This isn't right, this city isn't supposed to stop for anything," Clary's voice was barely audible, but she followed Magnus and Raphael down the street turning into an alley that held the entrance to a very familiar bar. The Hunter's Moon. To Clary's surprise, with a mix of relief and joy, Maia opened the door and ushered them in; that is before she tried to slam the door in Raphael's face; he caught it a fraction of a second before it hit him.

"No leeches allowed." Maia's voice sounded exhausted, but she continued to push against Raphael who held the door open with his hand.

"Maia he has to come in," Clary started, Maia quickly cut her off.

"No he doesn't. If he really wants to be any help, he can stand guard outside while those of us that are living discuss ways to stay living." Maia sneered. Raphael rolled his eyes, and shoved the door open and sent Maia stumbling backwards. He walked through before she could recover, only to stop short, Clary could swear she actually heard him suck in a breath.

"Bien esto es un inconveniente." Raphael's eyes swept across the room, there were probably twelve to fifteen werewolves sitting in various places around the bar, all of them had their eyes trained on him; Clary could swear their eyes were glowing. One of the werewolves got up and started walking towards Raphael, he had to be the biggest, he was bulky with muscle, and about twice Clary's height, yet she still jumped between him and Raphael.

"Maia's right, no bloodsuckers allowed, especially not that one," He pointed at Raphael, who just raised an eyebrow as if to say: who me? "Now get out of the way, shadowhunter." The man made a motion like he was trying to swat a fly away, Clary stayed where she was.

"He's with us." She said.

"He might be with you and the warlock but he's not with us," waving to the other werewolves behind him. "Like the pup said, he can stand guard outside." Clary looked to Maia, whose face had an agitated expression on it when she heard the word 'pup'.

"No, he has to be included in this discussion." Clary stated, a few more of the werewolves moved forward to join the other, Clary took a step back, bumping into Raphael who placed his hands on her hips to steady her; the werewolves zoomed in on his hands, and Clary instantly felt light headed with embarrassment. Clary turned to Magnus, who gave a shrug and tapped his wrist as if they were running out of time.

"Perhaps the dogs are right," Raphael said, the werewolves flinched, "I'll stay outside for now." Raphael turned Clary's face to the right and leaned around to gently kiss her lips, it was not anything long or overwhelming like before; then she noticed Luke out of the corner of her eye, who had just exited what Clary guessed to be his office. Raphael turned and walked out the door, Clary was frozen on the spot, she risked a glance at Luke and like everyone else, he was staring at her.

"I thought you were dating that bimbo, what's his name, Jace right?" Someone spoke up from the back, he was tall and thin with a scar down his cheek.

"Lay off, Bat." Maia had saved her, although she gave Clary a wary look, "And he wasn't- isn't a bimbo he's just-" Maia paused, "He's just Jace." She finished, Clary wanted to do a face palm right about now.

"Well wasn't that just marvelous," Magnus clapped his hands together, his voice was dripping with sarcasm, "However interesting the topic of who Clary's boyfriend might be; I think we should be more concerned with the narcissistic, bastard who is trying with all his grandeur to send us on a one way trip to hell; and I'm sure none of us want to go there," Magnus paused, tapping his chin as if in thought, "or go back to." He finished, with a quick glance at the door Raphael was standing outside of.

"Gee I thought you would have loved to surprise your dad with a visit, Magnus." The voice came from outside, no doubt it was Raphael. Magnus either wanted to faint or kill Raphael; Clary sided with the latter.

"Perhaps we should take a seat in the back room. Disturbances would probably be more limited there." Luke finally spoke up; Clary wanted to run to him, hug him, heck she wanted to cry in his arms, finally there was someone who she was close enough to she could let her emotions out, but something held her back; maybe it was common sense, now obviously was not the time, but Clary had a gut feeling Luke had enough issues to deal with. She followed him back to the room, not bothering to look back to see if Magnus was following.

She noticed Luke's walk, how his shoulders were hunched over, he even looked older. She wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder, to comfort him, again some invisible force in her mind held her back. Luke took a seat, while Clary took a seat across from him, Magnus stood in the corner, brooding over Raphael's comment, and a few other werewolves trailed in.

"Let me guess," Clary started, "You were wondering when I was going to show up?"

"No, well yes, but that wasn't my first thought. I'm glad you're okay, Clary. I'm glad you're alive." Luke gave her a kind, sad smile.

"I'm glad to see you're still alive too." Clary said, her voice sounded a bit awkward, _why? This was Luke; he was practically her father, or at least the man who helped raise her. _

"I'm sorry about the earlier situation, the others are on edge because of Valentine and Raphael isn't exactly their most favorite person." One of the werewolves scoffed. "I need to know how we can help you. Do you have the cup?" Clary shook her head. "Do you have the mortal sword?" Again Clary shook her head. "Do you have any weapons?"

"I have a stele." Clary offered, hey it was something.

"That won't be enough."

"Funny, Raphael mentioned that earlier today. You two think alike." Luke looked just a little repulsed at the idea.

"Do you have any idea on how to get the cup or the sword?" Luke asked, he looked ready to drop dead because of all the stress.

"Not really," Clary started slowly, she now realized how stupidly impulsive she had been. _Running off to Raphael for help, striking a stupid deal that would probably kill her, wandering into Idris unarmed and unaware, not to mention her lack of brain function when Raphael was being extremely-_ Clary stopped herself, _he was being an extremely annoying distraction, nothing else. Yeah right. _Clary grimaced at her train of thought; she did not want to go there, not now. She would have plenty of time to wonder what could have been when all this was over. _Or what could be. _

"Do you have any idea where the sword and the cup are?" Luke sounded like he already knew the answer.

"Probably with Valentine; either that or he at least keeps them close by." Clary thought. It sounded right, Valentine was strong and powerful, but he was not stupid enough to leave the mortal instruments unguarded, which made her think of the lake. _Did that have guards posted around it?_ Probably.

"So we have nothing but a hunch." It was that one kid again, Bat. Clary recognized the voice from earlier. She turned around in her chair to look him in the eyes as she said,

"No, we have four, powerful breeds of downworlders who should be able to squash Valentine easily. Instead, they're either too scared to help or unwilling to help or they're too busy fighting a thousand year old feud with one another over something that probably doesn't even matter anymore." Clary finished; Bat shut his mouth, suppressing his anger. Clary turned back to Luke.

"The sword is with Valentine." Luke stated like he was discussing the weather. "Well in a way, Sebastian currently has it since he happens to be in town guarding the wards." Luke made a face at the name; obviously Sebastian and Luke were not on good terms. Clary considered it; taking Sebastian out of the picture now would certainly weaken Valentine, but it would also severely weaken her side as well. Sebastian would take a lot of downworlders out before someone took him out. Unfortunately, that was as far as her thoughts got when Raphael pushed his way through the werewolves at the door.

"I'd hate to be the bringer of bad news, but we have a slight problem outside."

"Yea? Well I'm pretty sure it's inside now." Apparently Bat still had one snarky remark in him.


	12. Friends and Foes part 1

Chapter 12 Friends and Foes (Part 1)

All at once, everyone looked out the window and craned their necks to see down the alley. It had started rained quite heavily, but no one could mistake the glow of the seraph blades in the night. Luke whispered something to Maia, who slipped out to the main part of the building probably to warn the others.

"Is there another way out?" Clary's voice wavered; she instinctively grabbed her stele despite the fact that in a fight it would do no good. Raphael came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her; to her own surprise, Clary let him. Luke sighed, although it could have been agitated just as much as stressed.

"Unless you plan on breaking a window, then no." There's the door in the alley and that's it. Not the smartest design I know." Luke walked over to the desk, and shuffled some papers, none of them looked important enough to take with him though. "It seems we get to start the fight sooner than expected. Although Clary, you don't have any weapons and we don't exactly store shadowhunter gear here." Luke looked up from the papers at her, a little agitated but then that was probably Raphael.

"Then we fight." Clary said.

"No. We fight; you don't, Clary." Clary jumped when she heard Raphael's voice beside her. He had been surprisingly compliant during the past few hours. Clary stepped out of Raphael's arms and looked him in the eye daring him to say it again. "You're not fighting, Clary." _Damn him_.

"Why not?" Clary asked, her weight on one hip, arms crossed, and trying to ask as tough as she can surprisingly reminded her of how they meant a few days ago, there was just no blood. Yet.

"Because you're a liability. An untrained and unarmed shadowhunter is as useless as a mundane." The answer came from Luke. _Great, if these two agree on something then the world was ending,_ Clary thought. Luke quickly cut off her counter, "And the stele doesn't count, your enemy will kill you before you ever manage to draw something fatal on him. Runes come before the fight, not during." Clary could feel her defeat hanging the air.

"Fine." Clary refused to look either of them in the eyes. It felt like betrayal, _wasn't she the one who was supposed to be protecting them? _

Then there was a knock at the door, a second later Clary could hear the door being kicked in, the werewolves panicking, struggling to maintain some kind of order among them. Raphael pushed Clary toward the window in Luke's office, while Luke ran out to help the others. Clary tried to protest, but Raphael was to strong, he broke the window and lifted Clary through the window, although to Clary it kind of felt like she was being thrown through the window. To her dismay, Raphael did not follow.

She glanced down the alley where the door had been broken down. No one was standing outside; all the fighting was inside the bar, which had to be difficult for the werewolves. Clary crept up towards the gaping hole, and peeked inside, it was not pretty.

Blood was everywhere, illuminated by the seraph blades' light that flashed across the walls. There were more than a few fallen, Clary couldn't tell who was who, she couldn't see Luke or Raphael or Maia, she could only here the yelling and shouting. She clutched her stele by her side as she glanced down the alley, no one else came in. _So she was technically safe here right?_

Then she heard a scream from inside the bar, unmistakably, Clary knew who it was. Her head whipped around and she saw Maia, blood spraying from a deep gash on her shoulder. One of Valentine's Nephilim was standing over her, sword raised; so Clary lunged at the guy. She grabbed him around the neck from behind, momentarily stunning him, until he tried to swing around and grab her. Clary held on with everything she had.

She still had the stele in her hand, Luke was right, drawing something would take too long, but luckily a stele was also very sharp. Clary could recognize the slight change in the crowd, everyone was still fighting, but the enemy was shifting their attention to her, she was the target, there was no doubt in Clary's mind that this was Valentine's search/hunting party for her. Quickly she jabbed the stele into the Nephilim's neck, the guy gave a short yell in pain as she tried to tear the stele through his skin. _There's a major artery in the neck right? _Was the only thought that went through Clary's mind.

To Clary's relief Maia recovered from her shock at seeing Clary and jumped up to help. She knocked the guy's sword away, yelling at Clary to get out of here; Clary held on. The man was weakening, that was apparently when he fell to the floor, Clary landed and looked down at him, he was not moving. Clary glanced around the room, same as before. Then something rammed into her side, knocking the breath out of her. She was backed up against the wall with another Nephilim in front of her. She tried to raise her stele but the man caught her wrist, forcing her to drop the stele.

"Did you know Valentine's orders to take you alive were revoked?" And his sword came down.

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><p>Yes, this is a very sort chapter. It was originally part of a much longer one until I broke that one up into three. Also if anyone has any idea or clue on how to write a good fight scene, please share with me. I really need the help.<p> 


	13. Friends and Foes part 2

So, there are a lot of comments about Clary being a vampire, or Raphael not being a daylighter, or other stuff like that; however, I'm sorry to say I'm not giving out any more spoilers for this fanfic. ;)

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><p>Chapter 12 Friends and Foes (Part 2)<p>

As quick as the Nephilim was with the sword, Luke was even quicker. In less than a second, Luke had rammed into the guy's side, knocking him off balance long enough for Clary to get away.

"Clary get out of here!" Luke yelled at her, the Nephilim had regained his bearings and swung at Luke. Luke was fast but not fast enough; the man's fist caught him in the lower ribs, knocking Luke off his feet, The Nephilim jumping on top of him, holing him down with his knee while he grabbed a knife from his belt.

Clary's eyes were glued to Luke as someone pushed her out of the bar. It was Maia. Maia was trying to block Clary's view, standing in front of Clary pushing her backwards, and yelling something unintelligible in the chaos. Clary could hear Luke yell for help as he struggled to get away as the knife came down.

Maia had dragged Clary out the door and down the alley into the night, but Clary was oblivious to all of it. She was frozen in place, Maia kept screaming at her but none of it registered to Clary. Clary recognized Maia had picked her up, carrying her away, farther and farther from the man who had helped raise her, as he lay dying in the bar.

* * *

><p>Maia set Clary down on something soft. Clary ran her hand across whatever it was, it tickled her skin but she did not smile. She looked down at the grass, she was in a park, or something like that. Maia was standing near, keeping a look out for anything dangerous.<p>

Clary took a glance at Maia; she had tears running down her cheeks, her hands were in fists at her sides, and Clary realized she was the same way; her eyes stung with tears that dripped onto her hands. She was curled up against something, _a wall? A fountain? A tree?_ Clary did not bother to find out; she simply sat there resting her head on her knees, arms wrapped around her head as if she needed protection. _I should have listened, why don't I ever listen?_ Clary wanted to scream the words but her voice would not work, her throat felt raw and tight.

* * *

><p>Time passed, not enough for the sun to come up, but Clary could feel the air warm up a few degrees as the sunrise came. Maia still stood unmoving by Clary, her tears had dried up; all that was left was the look of rage on her face and Clary knew Maia was swearing revenge for her dead pack leader. Clary wished she could do the same, in fact she would, but grieving was her priority right now; biting back the sobs was becoming harder and harder.<p>

"Someone should be here by now. We've had this place set as the place to meet up if this ever happens; now where are those incompetent idiots?" Maia's voice struck Clary like a rock; the blunt anger was overpowering. Clary did not answer, it was not a question meant for her.

* * *

><p>Finally someone showed up, the sky was getting lighter and briefly the thought of Raphael passed through Clary's mind, only briefly though. What she really wanted, who she really wanted was Luke; but Luke was gone.<p>

The 'someone', was Bat and a few other werewolves. They were pretty beat up; Bat, himself, had a large gash along his forearm, the blood flow was like a flood, he looked pale and if he did not get help soon, Clary could guess Luke would not be the only one lost tonight. Nevertheless, he gave Maia a reassuring squeeze with his good arm.

"Where's Raphael?" Clary's voice was raspy, the words barely intelligible; but vampires were not the only ones with super hearing, the werewolves turned to her, then turned to Bat; apparently someone had made the man who looked barely out of his teens the leader. Maybe it was because he was so tall, no one could miss him.

"We don't know." He did not have the snarky tone in his voice like he had before. "Mostly likely he got out; he was not among the bodies left in the bar." Bat turned back towards the other werewolves, Clary did not mind, she wanted to be alone; alone to grieve over Luke and her own stupidity, and maybe, _just maybe_, a little for Raphael.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Maia came over to try and talk Clary into coming with them, to get cleaned up and find something to eat. Clary followed like a zombie, numb to everything and everyone around her.<p>

The sun was up, Raphael still was not here. The werewolves had retreated to a hideaway of theirs. An old one if Clary had to guess. It was covered in dust, there was no electricity or running water but it was enough.

* * *

><p>Clary's mind began to properly function around midmorning, she could finally stand and walk without shaking, her stomach reacted to the smell of the fast food someone had brought her, and she had a growing plan on how to get revenge.<p>

Hours passed as Clary thought about the plan, working out the details, figuring every step out. Most the werewolves had gone to sleep; she had volunteered to keep watch. Then she felt someone brush her shoulder, Maia had managed to creep up on her and sat next to Clary on the floor. "You have a plan." It was not a question, Maia knew, something in Clary had given it away.

"A partial plan, I'm still working out minor details." Clary answered. Her throat was no longer sore, but her eyes still felt a little puffy.

"It's better than nothing, so tell."

"It involves the werewolves and vampires working together to finish off the Nephilim here in New York. Also the Unseelie court has a passage straight into Alicante, so while we fight here, they can distract Valentine and some of the others back in Idris." Clary heard Maia suck in a breath.

"I've heard of the Unseelie court, they're worse than the fey I'm used to, I don't know how you're going to get them to help us, but the Seelie court might. They weren't very happy about losing the war with the demons, you know." Maia's voice was thoughtful as she spoke. "What about the warlocks?"

"That's the part I'm trying to figure out." Clary said, her brow furrowed, "I was thinking they could help the fey, but I want Magnus by my side."

"Makes sense. He makes a good getaway driver doesn't he?" Clary felt herself smile at Maia's halfhearted joke. _Yes, he did_, Clary thought, _but that's not why I want him_. So Clary and Maia discussed all the possible plans and traps and attacks they could use to get rid of Valentine.

* * *

><p>"I need weapons." Clary spoke to the group of werewolves who had taken an interest in Maia as she told them the plan Clary had come up with.<p>

"We know; we figured the institute is under surveillance so we've been wondering how to get you some.

"There's a church a few blocks away from the Hotel Dumort." Clary said, "Jace and I raided the place a few months ago but we didn't take everything. It shouldn't be that far from here either."

"You're just trying to find an excuse to go check on the vamps and see if Raphael every showed up." It was Bat who spoke up again; yes, he was right, that was exactly what Clary wanted to do.

"It wouldn't hurt to go find out." Clary shrugged.

"Uh, yes it would." Someone from the back spoke up, Clary could not see his face, "and it would hurt a lot, especially us."

"I didn't mean all of us would go, I know how to get in on my own so I can just take a quick peek inside and if he's there, I'll talk to him; if not, I'll let Lily and Jacob know about our plan and see if they can help or not." Clary sounded reasonable, and one by one the werewolves agreed. So it was settled, first they would go to the church; then they would back track their way to the hotel and talk to the vampires.

* * *

><p>The church looked the same and luckily for Clary, there was no one around besides the werewolves and her. Clary knocked on the door, then tried the knob, of course it was locked. It still seemed wrong to break into a church no matter what the reason, but right now they desperately needed to.<p>

"Oh-" The doors swung open before Clary could even get the next word out, hot air blew out of the church, _obviously someone had left the heater on_, Clary thought. She found the rune that marked the stash of weapons near the front, most of them were still there, covered in dust. She tried picking up a sword, way too heavy. She looked around, there was a whip like Isabelle's, but that seemed wrong to take. There were some knives and smaller swords, and of course, plenty of defense mechanisms against downworlders. In the end Clary took some of the knives and a belt to hold them in, they she grabbed the whip, not necessarily to fight with, but to remind her of what she was fighting for.

* * *

><p>The Dumort was next on their list. The guards that might be near the hotel were a minor detail to Clary, she really did not care how she got in; she just needed to get in. The hotel, as far as Clary could tell, had no guards. She walked right up to the grate; the sun was still out so there were no vamps out to stop her. Maia and a few of the others helped Clary pull the grate back and Clary dropped down, just like before, She looked up, "You're not coming with me?"<p>

"Sorry Clary. Simon was nice and all, but the others of his kind aren't exactly as sympathetic as he would be in this situation." Maia called down, she seemed sincere. "We'll be happy to stand guard though. If you're not out in a half hour then we'll come in." Maia gave her a wink. _You mean you'll come in and attack everyone,_ Clary thought.

Clary walked down the tunnel up to the main floor, it was quiet like it always was during the day, so Clary walked to the stairs her guard down, her arms resting at her sides.

"For a Nephilim you're not very quiet." Clary turned, only now did she notice Jacob leaning against the wall.


	14. Friends and Foes part 3

Chapter 12 Friends and Foes part 3

"I'm not actually going to attack you, you know? I'm not Raphael." Jacob said, he did not look very interested in Clary, he looked bored, but it seemed most vampires tended to look 'bored'.

"Oh, well that's good." Clary had had one brief meeting with this vampire before. He was the one who stole Simon out of her backpack. So naturally, he was already on her bad side. "Has Raphael returned?"

"Not that I know of. I was kind of hoping he would be gone long enough for Camille to return. But if he's back in town already, I doubt that'll ever happen." Jacob shrugged; apparently he was not Raphael's biggest fan.

"Okay. Well are you at all interested in hearing a plan to take down Valentine?" Clary asked, this would have been so much easier if Raphael was here and he could just order the vampires to follow her plan.

"Sure, what the hell." Clary swore she was him role his eyes.

"Well," Clary started out awkwardly, "me and the other downworlders have decided that the fey and maybe as many warlocks we can round up would go fight in Idris, while the vampires and werewolves handle at least New York City, divide Valentine's forces and everything. That leaves me and a few others to get the mortal instruments and get to the lake and reverse Valentine's wish." The plan did not sound near as good as it had when she had been discussing it with the werewolves.

"You are aware that vampires and werewolves don't exactly get along, right?"

"Yes, but I think that's fixable."

"If you knew the problem, you would understand that it will never be 'fixable'." Jacob said, he did not sound harsh like Raphael would have during this conversation, he just sounded bored. Clary could guess that being in charge of the vampires was not Jacob's thing.

"If you want, I could put you with Magnus. Although I'll warn you, he swings both ways." Clary said; Jacob made a face.

"I'll discuss it with Lily." He walked away. Clary called after him.

"Are you sure you haven't heard anything about Raphael?" Clary could hear the concern in her voice and Jacob did not miss it either.

"I swear on my undead life, I've heard nothing." He smiled as he spoke the words. "You're not actually starting to have some feelings for the head vampire are you?" Clary did not answer, if she did she was not positive her answer would be the truth. Although it seemed Jacob took her answer as a 'no'. "For your sake, you better not have feelings for him. It will only end with you lying in a grave." He walked away, not up the stairs but off into the room that had once been the lobby for the hotel.

* * *

><p>Clary returned to Maia and the others, "They said they will think about it." Clary's voice was dull; her eyes told the rest of the story: Raphael was not at the hotel.<p>

"Then we go get the sword on our own." Clary looked up, searching for who the voice belonged to. It was one of the older werewolves; he was mid-forties maybe, average build with light brown hair and dark eyes. Clary's face must have looked confused because the man began to clarify, "We were discussing how it might be better if we attack Sebastian now. He would not be expecting us to regroup so quickly so we'd catch him off guard. We get in, get the sword, and get out. Simple as that."

"Don't you think we've had enough causalities lately?" Clary asked, her tone sounded dark; perhaps Raphael's personality had rubbed off on her, as much as she hated to admit.

"There will be more if we don't get that sword. Sebastian is a bit of a sadist." Clary did not bother arguing, what he said was true, her brother, Sebastian, was a sadist; and the best way to take out her pain and anger would be to take out the person who caused it all, or at least his son.

* * *

><p>Sebastian and his men had set up something along the lines of a military camp; how the mundanes missed it Clary did not know. Even with the glamour they should have suspected something was up. Sebastian's camp was set up down at the docks, the controls for the wards were on a large boat, much like the one Valentine had had before, but this one was reinforced with more guards. Perhaps Valentine had learned his lesson?<p>

"There is no way we can get on that thing without being seen." Clary whispered, they were well out of ear shot of the Nephilim, but it seemed like whispering was the right thing to do.

"Yes for us 'werewolves' there isn't, but there's a way for you." Maia said, apparently somehow Clary's special ability had gotten out. _Did she know about how Clary had gotten into the Hotel Dumort? _Clary thought; she frowned, Clary had no desire to experiment with her power right now.

"Fine." Clary said. "I'll get in and figure out the interior, then locate the sword, if I run into trouble, I'll make sure I'm a big enough problem to get the guards outside to come inside so you all can get in." the others nodded in agreement, Clary drew the rune, and walked up towards the guards.

* * *

><p>It was no harder than the last time. These Nephilim depended too much on their eyes. If they maybe stopped talking and listened for a moment they would have heard Clary walking by, she did not even bother to be quiet. <em>This is pathetic, there's got to be some other kind of guard around here or else these wards would have been taken out ages ago, <em>Clary thought.

Inside the ship was a maze of tiny halls, twisting this way and that, stairs going up and down in tin spirals, and rooms with the doors whose handles looked like the steering wheel of a pirate ship. It did not take long for Clary to admit she was lost. So she improvised, she waited; hiding in the corner behind one of the stair cases, waiting for anyone to come by, she figured she could follow them; eventually she had to end up somewhere important, right? What she got was some information that made her want to run down the halls, screaming.

"So have you heard Sebastian's plan for that vamp that one guy brought in the other day? I'll tell ya, Sebastian's crazy. I suggested we just leave him out in the sun; get it over with quick and easy, but no; Sebastian has got to torture him. He's got it in his mind that his little sister or whoever that Clary person is will come running for her bloodsucker any minute now. Please, as if that would happen." The man finished, Clary immediately followed, her mind slightly registered she was going off course, she was supposed to find the sword, but for some reason unbeknownst to her, she wanted to get Raphael out of here first. There was no other vampire they could be talking about.

She followed the men down the hall, looking through the little window of every door, but there was of sign of Raphael.

Finally, she reached the last door, and of course, that seemed to be the room the men were heading to as well. "Told ya he was in bad shape. Sebastian wants to keep him on the 'edge of his undead life' at least that's what he said."

"If the vamp doesn't get blood soon, he's going to be dead. Not living, not undead, just dead." The other replied. The men stood there talking for a few moments, glancing through the window of the room that had to contain Raphael; then they finally left. Clary waited about thirty seconds before she opened the door a crack, squeezed through and shut the door as silently as possible.

Clary looked around the room, yes, Raphael was there and yes, he really was in bad shape. Really bad shape. Clary knew her cover fell; _it had to be emotion related_ she thought for a second, but Raphael did not open his eyes, he continued to lean against the wall, sitting on the ground. There was blood everywhere, not to mention the wounds on Raphael's body were not healing; he had lost too much blood.

Clary did not care about the blood or the wounds, she really did not think at all about what she was doing; she ran to him, falling on her hands and knees in front of him, embracing him in a hug, and burying her face against his chest. Clary did not need to look up at him, she could practically feel Raphael's surprise as he looked down at her and as he wrapped his arms around her, only slightly wincing at the pain it caused him.

"You're aware I'm not Jace, right?" Raphael asked; Clary could hear the pain in his voice, so she resisted the urge to hug him harder; instead she settled for softly kissing him along his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips. _This is crazy! This is wrong!_ Clary pushed her conscious away; ignoring every indication that what she was doing was wrong; it felt right and that was good enough for her.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference between you and Jace." Clary said between kisses, she vaguely registered how weak Raphael really was; how he did not bother to take control of the situation, how he did not bother putting up a fight or making some stupid remark about, well, anything really. They stayed like that for a few minutes, not talking or arguing just kissing, enfolded in each other's embrace; then Clary finally pulled away, her breathing was heavy as she laid her head against Raphael. She relaxed her arms, her eyes half closed as she whispered, "I was so worried about you," Clary realized the words were true as she spoke them, she did not regret it. So maybe she had some slight affectionate feelings for Raphael; it did not mean anything, if another girl was put in her place and had to go through the situations Clary had been put through with Raphael, that girl would have some feelings towards his as well.

"It's been a while since I've heard anything like that." Raphael's voice had its usual tone, a mix of arrogance, sarcasm, and humor; something Clary had been learning to enjoy.

"Well don't make me regret it." Clary mumbled, she brushed her fingers over the cross shaped scar at the base of Raphael's throat, the gold chain was still there and her fingers absentmindedly played with it as she said, "We're getting you out of here."

"Clary, although I appreciate the favor, I won't get very far."

"You need blood?" Clary looked up at him as she asked.

"Sí, hermosa. But I don't want your blood, not yet. I've been waiting for specific circumstances to come around for that." Raphael smiled down at her; his fangs just barely visible, teasing her.

"I'm still not having sex with you." Clary stated, although even as she said the words she felt herself blush, so she pulled away from him and stood up. She rubbed her hands on her pants, only adding to the blood stains; and finally when she felt the blush was gone she looked back at Raphael_. He still has that stupid, arrogant smile on his face,_ Clary thought. She held out her hand to help him out, like Clary had done before, he ignored the help and got up on his own. "I could have helped you."

"I don't need the help." Raphael paused, "Sound familiar, ángel? I guess we're more alike than you thought." Clary ignored him, he was trying to rile her up and Clary was determined it would not work. Not now, at least.

"If you can get up on your own, why did you not get out?"

Raphael nodded his head in the direction of the door, it took Clary a second or two to figure out what he meant at first but then she saw it. On the door handle was the drawling of a cross, nothing fancy or detailed, but it was enough to keep Raphael locked in.

"Do you know anything about the layout of this place?" Clary asked as she walked over to the door, stood on her tip toes and peeked out the window, looking for anyone headed their way.

"No, I was unconscious when they brought me here, I've been in this room ever since." Clary jumped at his voice she had not realized he was directly behind her.

"You don't understand the meaning of personal space do you?" Clary asked the irritation in her voice was as clear as crystal.

"Yes I do, and I prefer to be in yours. It's to help you get used to being so close to me, that way it will be a lot less uncomfortable for you when we're in my bed having sex." Clary jumped as Raphael set his hands on her hips, something between a scream and a whimper escaped through her lips.

"Let's just focus on getting out of here first." Clary said, although the words took some effort for to form on her lips. She silently cursed Maia for sending her in here alone. Clary opened the door and slipped through; Raphael followed behind her, he was still too close for Clary's liking, but at least he could keep up.

Without her cover Clary felt like she should be running through the halls, but she could not. She had to stay with Raphael; she also still had to find the sword.

"Do you have any idea where the sword is?" Clary whispered.

"Your brother has it, at all times I'm guessing." Raphael looked angry, Clary noted. She raised her eye brows questioningly and Raphael answered, "I've seen the sword a few too many times lately." Raphael held up his arm, there were gashed all along it. Clary got the message.

They continued on in silence, Clary looking through every door they passed, looking for a way out or the sword, whichever came first. Finally Clary found the sword; she also found Sebastian as Raphael had predicted.

Clary grabbed a knife from her belt, she had never thrown a knife before, she did not even know how but she had to try. She raised her arm above her head, ready to throw the knife, when Raphael caught her arm and stopped her.

"Do you even know how to use that?" _Could he read my mind?_ Clary thought. She did not answer, she did not need to. Raphael rolled his eyes and took the knife from her hand. "I'm guessing the dogs are outside waiting for you. Perhaps now would be a good time to get their attention." Clary considered it; _yeah he was right, again_. She thought for a moment, the easiest way to get the werewolves' attention would be to rip the ship apart like she had the other one. But she did not want to drown herself and Raphael, so she thought of something else.

Next to her, at the bottom of the wall was a vent, Clary did not know where it went but she figured it would work. She reached down and removed the cover as quietly as she could; she took out her stele, and drew something on the inside of the vent. Clary was only slightly worried about the scratching sounds against the metal, but it seems her brother was as deaf as those his father had enlisted for Nephilim.

When Clary finished, a thick green smoke rose from the rune and spread throughout the ventilation system, hopefully it would reach the outside at some point.

"It's not poisonous is it?" Raphael asked, Clary noted the hint of concern in his voice, he did not breath, but she did.

"I don't think so." Clary said, but she heard the doubt in her voice. "I guess now we just wait for back up." Clary shrugged, she looked into the few rooms that surrounded them, they were empty but the doors were locked.

"You can wait here; I have to get blood before I pass out." Raphael walked off in the direction they had just come from, Clary watched him. She did not try and stop him that would have been pointless, because Raphael was right, _he seems to be right about a lot of things_, Clary's conscious reminded her non to kindly. He needed blood and honestly Clary did not want to be part of that hunting party.

* * *

><p>Clary must have waited about ten minutes. Her knife in hand, prepared for anything. She had watched a few thin strips of green smoke leak through the vent, but for the most part it seemed to spread upwards.<p>

She heard the werewolves enter the ship, they must have been on the floor above her because she could hear them tramping along the metal halls; they were not really bothering to be quiet either. Clary glanced around the corner; she saw Sebastian and a few others run out of a room and up the stairs. To Clary's dismay, Sebastian had the sword with him as he left.

Clary followed them a few steps behind, far enough so no one would recognize her and sure enough, they led her right to the Maia and the others. The werewolves were not wolves. The sun was still up, barely, it had to be setting soon; it did not matter though, werewolves no matter what form they were in, seemed to cause as much trouble as they could in wolf form.

Clary tapped one Nephilim on the shoulder, he turned around and Clary drove the knife into his abdomen, the guy sucked in a breath in surprise before he fell over on his knees, gasping for breath. Clary did not stop. She pulled her knife out and quickly found Sebastian.

She rounded on him, trying to come up behind Sebastian as he focused on a few of the werewolves. Clary was maybe two steps from him, when he turned too sharply for her, knocking her over in the process. Sebastian looked down at her for a second; he looked confused as if to say, _where'd you come from? _But it was a second too long.

Someone rammed him in the side; Clary could not be sure but thought it was Bat. Sebastian lost his grip on the sword; Clary scrambled on the ground for it her hand grabbing the hilt. Clary could hear someone cry out as Sebastian kicked him or her away; Clary grabbed the hilt at the same time as Sebastian.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, looking into each other's eyes trying to predict the other's moves. Clary struck first. She grabbed her knife and jammed it into Sebastian's hand, releasing his grip on the sword. Clary pulled it towards her as Sebastian was too busy trying to stop the bleeding. She got up and ran.

"Go straight down the hallway, you'll see your way out when you get there!" Maia called out to her; Clary did as she was told. She ran as fast as she could, but the sword was heavy and slowed her down quite a bit.

Sebastian was quick to recover; he shoved the werewolves out of the way, and headed towards Clary. She took and a chance and glanced back, _damn he's fast!_

Clary was maybe a few yards from the door when Sebastian dove and knocked Clary's legs out from under her. The sword clattered to the ground out in front of her, glinting in the falling sun. Clary tried to crawl forward, but Sebastian dragged her back.

Clary reached for another knife, but Sebastian was quicker and pinned her hands to the ground with one hand and raised a dagger with his other. Clary was ready; she closed her eyes and awaited death. Then something threw Sebastian off her, she opened her eyes to see Raphael sanding above her. He offered his hand to help her up and Clary quickly took it. She ran towards the sword and grabbed it, she would thank Raphael later.

Sebastian took a quick look from Clary to Raphael then back to the sword, he made a mad lunge towards Clary, but Raphael got in the way and knocked him back to the ground.

Clary looked outside, the sun was down, and the sky was a dark blue. "Raphael we have to go now!" She yelled out, he did not listen. So Clary ran up and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the night. "You can get your revenge later!"

Raphael took a reluctant look back at Sebastian and followed Clary outside. Clary heard Maia screaming something unintelligible along with a few others as the werewolves sprinted to catch up with Clary and Raphael.

At the second they got out, the boat exploded. The explosion knocked Clary into Raphael and they fell to the ground, along with all the others who were scattered around them.

"What? What happened?" Clary gasped, the air was filled with dust and debris and Clary could barely see Raphael who had his arms tightly wrapped around her.

"Bat went gone crazy that's what." Maia called out somewhere from Clary's left. Maia seemed to be able to sense Clary's confusion because she responded with, "he had C4, don't ask me where it came from, I'm sure if Luke had known he would have confiscated it a long time ago."

"Oh," was Clary's only response. _Yes, it made perfect sense that a werewolf would have bombing devices hidden somewhere just waiting to be used for this event. _Clary thought.

"Well I was planning to use it on the vampire's hotel, but I figured this was a bigger problem." The dust was clearing and Clary could make out Bat's tall figure as he stood up, he no doubt had a huge smile on his face as he spoke the words because he was looking right at Raphael.

* * *

><p>Okay, so that was really long and took forever to write. There's one last part to Chapter 4, I ended up having to divide the third part in two, and I'm sure you can see why. I'm sorry if there are a bunch of grammatic errors I was in a hurry to finish this part up.<p> 


	15. Friends and Foes part 4

This is the last part of this chapter. I promise. Also, if you did not notice, I changed the rating on the fan fiction to M for mature. But who am I kidding, I considered myself mature when I was like…ten. :P

* * *

><p>Chapter 12 Friends and Foes part 4<p>

"You were planning to blow us up?" Raphael asked; Clary twisted around in his arms to get a better look at him. He actually did not look mad just very, very astounded.

"Well maybe not blow you up. Just shake things up a bit, maybe catch you guys off guard, you know, stuff like that." Bat seemed like he was starting to register the danger he might have just put the whole downtown pack in.

Clary untangled herself from Raphael and got up. "Well we got the sword which was goal, right? So now we need to figure out how to get the cup."

"That's in Alicante; locked up somewhere I'm sure." Maia said, although it sounded more like a guess judging by the waver in her voice.

"Okay, so we have to go get Magnus for that." Clary said. She was counting on her fingers all the steps they would need to take: _get Magnus, get to Alicante, get the cup with as few casualties as possible, get out, get to the lake, reverse Valentine's wish._ Six steps that seemed so little, but they would prove to be the biggest challenge for the group. Clary's turned her attention back to Raphael, "You need to talk to Jacob and Lily; and by talk I mean order them to participate in our plans and fight with the other downworlders." Clary was aware she was trying to order around Raphael, the one person here that would have no problem killing her.

"Whether they help or not, we'll see. However, I do need to talk to them about some of their recent actions." It did not sound like an agreement, but it did not sound like a disagreement either.

"Fine, Clary you go with Raphael to the hotel, the rest of us will get Magnus." Maia's say was final; no one disagreed, no one really wanted to.

* * *

><p>It was the third time Clary had been to the Hotel Dumort within a week; which was far too many times than Clary liked. Getting into the hotel was becoming too familiar, as was the inside of the hotel; Clary noticed she could find the maid's stairs without any direction from Raphael. They walked up in silence; Clary vaguely noted they were headed in the direction of Raphael's room. <em>Great, <em>she thought_. I have at least another hour alone with him_.

The room looked the same; Raphael briefly mentioned he would track down the others before he left. Clary was alone, in the head vampire's room. Her first thought was to sneak through all the files and folders on the desk, but one look at herself and she knew what she really had to do. Shower.

* * *

><p>After practically scrubbing her skin raw, Clary looked at the clothes she had. She had left the backpack back at the bar so she was stuck with underwear, a pair of jeans that had gotten most of the blood, and a black t-shirt with a neckline a little too low for Clary's liking. Eventually she put the panties and the t-shirt back on, leaving the jeans on the floor, she looked out the bathroom door, searching for any sign that Raphael had returned. When she confirmed he was not there, she ran for the bed and dove under the covers. It was not long before she fell asleep.<p>

* * *

><p>The door banged open and Clary barely stopped herself from jumping out of bed, ready to fight off the intruders. Then she remembered where she was. The hotel, Raphael's room, Clary quickly grabbed the covers and pulled them up to her chin, pretending to be asleep. Yet, she could still hear Raphael walk in the room, she could also hear the zipper of his jacket as he shrugged it off. Clary sat up.<p>

"What are you doing?" Clary asked, Raphael was already removing his shirt, Clary swore this guy was going to give her a permanent blush one of these days.

"Taking my clothes off so I can take a shower; if you want to join me, you can." _Yeah, there's the blush,_ Clary thought.

"No thanks, I already took a shower; and you can," Clary to her dismay stuttered a bit, "take your clothes off in the bathroom." She had to choke out the last words, it really did not help that Raphael continued to remove his clothes in front of her, and it did not help that Clary could not take her eyes off him, even though her face felt like it was on fire. She forced her eyes closed, squeezing them as tightly as possible until it hurt; this was definitely not what she needed right now.

"Are you sure?" Raphael's voice felt dangerously close to Clary, she opened one eye a slit, and gasped.

"What the hell are you doing? Get away from me!" Clary yelled, she tried to move backwards away from Raphael who had moved fast enough to get on the bed, practically right on top of Clary without her noticing. However, her head hit the backboard, sending a sharp jolt down her spine. Lucky for Clary, Raphael still had his boxers on, but they were just a little too low and Clary could see the v shaped lines along his hips.

Raphael laughed at her, a real laugh not one of his scoffs Clary normally got, and it shocked Clary. "You're such as innocent, little thing, hermosa." Raphael had a genuine smile on his face and it only pissed Clary off more; she tried pushing him away but he did not budge, so she propped herself up on her elbows and stared him down. "You're also not much of a threat." Raphael slid off her, only to lay by her side, he had his head propped up with one hand while the other hand lingered on her hip even though she still have the covers over her; and to Clary's disappointment he was in between her and door of the bedroom.

"Go take your shower." Clary muttered, she tried to pull away from him but she could not, she did not want to. His free hand wandered leisurely up her body and cupped her face, turning her to face him. He leaned in and lightly kissed her lips, Clary let herself fall back on the pillows as Raphael kissed her, her hands ran along his shoulder blades and pulled him closer.

"Are you sure?" Raphael asked quietly, he bit down on her bottom lip before she could answer. When she regained at least part of her mentality she pushed him away. Honestly, if the covers were not between them, then she might have done the opposite.

"Yes. Now go." Clary's breathing was ragged; it seemed to be a side effect of kissing Raphael. They stayed there for a moment, frozen. Then finally, Raphael pulled away and walked towards the bathroom. Through half closed eyes, Clary saw Raphael remove the last of his clothing, and she swore he looked back at her and gave her another one of those genuine smiles.

* * *

><p>Clary's mind was so fogged over with sleep that she barely registered Raphael slipping into bed beside her. That is, until he wrapped one arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck, his slightly damp hair tickling her skin.<p>

"Sé que estás despierto, hermosa." He whispered; Clary's eyes opened, she could feel his hand move to her bare thigh, stroking up and down more softly than she would have ever expected. She leaned back into him, only for him to lean back farther so she ended up rolling onto her back looking up at him.

"You're still not wearing any clothes." Clary said lazily; worry creeping into her voice as she started to register the situation she was in. She averted her eyes, choosing to look at a corner of the ceiling instead of Raphael; she could feel another blush growing across her cheeks and a warm, tight feeling in her abdomen.

"I didn't see the point of getting dressed when I'm only going to take them off in ten maybe fifteen minutes." He said softly, Clary could feel his eyes on her, hungrily roaming up and down her body; she took a glance at him, but that turned out to be a mistake. As soon as Clary caught his gaze, she could not look away, not from his eyes and not from his body. She felt her abdomen tighten even more, her body becoming too hot for her own skin. Clary's mind fumbled for words but she could not think straight; not with Raphael's hand sliding up and down her thigh, then resting on her hip as his fingers gave a slight pull on her panties.

Clary reached down and grabbed his hand, trying to pull it away from her, but Raphael only entwined his fingers with hers then pinned her hand above her head as he leaned over her. Clary tried her best to calm her breathing, to slow her heart rate; it did not do much good, especially when Raphael leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was soft at first, but it soon escalated to something much more, Raphael let go of her hand and slipped it under her head, grabbing and pulling at her hair; Clary was partially aware she had done the same thing to him.

Raphael's lips moved down Clary's jaw to the base of her throat, a flash a fear went through Clary's body but it quickly dissolved as he kissed her throat. Teasing her body as he delicately bit her overly sensitized skin. Clary gasped for breath, her whole body felt like it was on fire, her eyes seemed blind to anything but Raphael, her heart beat had been rapid before, but now it was nothing but a soft flutter compared to the pulsing need between her thighs.

"Raphael," Clary heard herself say. She had meant it to be a warning that they should not be doing this, that they needed to get on with their plans and meet up with the werewolves before they came tramping through the hotel; but it came out more like a moan, her hands entangled in his hair and her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

Then she felt a pull at the collar of her shirt, and she froze. "Raphael stop!" the urgency in Clary's tone caused Raphael to look up at her. His eyes showed a mix of anger and lust.

"Don't try to get away this time, hermosa. I really doubt my dick can take any more of your teasing." Raphael's tone was harsh, but he spoke so softly that it did not scare Clary. It was not meant to scare her, only to convince her to let him do what he wanted.

"I'm not, I swear," Clary stammered over the words as she realized they were true, "I just don't want you ripping the only clothes I have to pieces." Clary finished; Raphael rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he said as he rolled off her, Clary got up and stripped the rest of her clothes off, and turned back around to face Raphael. Only now did she realize how vulnerable she was. Raphael was lying on his back, the covers gone, with his arms behind his head as his eyes lingered on her. He made a motion with his hand telling Clary to come here, and she obeyed. She cuddled up against him, her arms wrapped around his chest.

Clary was still aware of how vulnerable she was: cuddling up to Raphael in his bed, naked. A small wisp of fear clouded her mind as Raphael shift them so he was on top of her, an even larger trace of fear entered her mind as he kissed her; first on her mouth and then her neck, she could feel his fangs now as he grazed them over her skin. Yet, all her feelings of fear were minuscule compared to her feeling of need, the pulsing between her legs had become seemingly unbearable and Raphael seemed to have no desire to speed things up; he was taking his time, so Clary lifted her hips and grinded them into his.

Clary was rewarded with a sharp bite to her neck. It hurt, but only for a moment and she was pretty sure he never drew blood. Raphael looked up at her, to Clary's amazement, he looked surprised. "What? Not expecting that?" Clary asked, trying to keep her emotions under control.

Raphael grinned at her; his eyes were full of arrogance as he got off the bed. He grabbed her ankle and dragged her so that she was lying on the bed, propped up on her elbows looking up at him; he had a hold of her legs beneath the knees and had positioned himself in between them. Clary tried to struggle away, but her attempt was futile; Raphael had a firm grip on her legs and she could not move away even an inch.

So she looked up at him through eyes blinded by lust; she could see every detail of him as she scanned her eyes down his body, then quickly raising them again. _I am not looking there!_ Clary practically yelled in her mind; even though she had to admit to herself that she already had look there, and she had liked what she had seen.

Clary was dragged out of her thoughts as Raphael tightened his grip on her. He raised her legs, bringing her towards him as he buried himself inside her. Clary cried out, the shock of it was both exhilarating and painful, she moaned as he slowly pulled out, teasing her body before he slammed into her again. Clary gripped the bed beneath her; her sighs and moans filled the room as Raphael picked up the pace; Clary could barely hang on to her sanity and then she lost it, right when Raphael pushed her into oblivion.

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><p>Clary was lying in the bed with Raphael; it had been at least a few hours since they were supposed to meet up with Maia and the others. But all that seemed so pointless right now, and besides it was not like Raphael wanted to go meet up with the werewolves right now.<p>

So she continued to trace random patterns on Raphael's chest with her finger, his skin was like marble, she thought, but it was not cold. In fact every time he had ever touched her it had never been cold, the exact opposite that Clary had expected of a vampire.

Then there was a rapid knock at the door, so loud even Clary could hear it, although it came from the entry door, not the bedroom door. Raphael raised his head slightly, his eyes half closed as he yelled, "Desaparece!" Clary did not know what it meant, but she figured it was something along the lines of go away.

"Raphael, I would if I could, but we've had an intruder who is very persistent and claims he needs to speak with you immediately." The voice was Jacob, and it was obvious he was struggling to hold someone back. Clary could hear a scuffle and then the entrance door banged open. Heavy footsteps crossed the living room, and the bedroom door was slammed into the wall.

Raphael quickly pulled the covers over them, so nothing was showing, and Clary was glad he did, because the person who walked into the room had an expression of desperation on his face, but it quickly changed to rage when he saw Clary in Raphael's arms.

"Simon," Clary whispered, it felt like her heart had stopped. Was she staring at a ghost? No, that was impossible. Simon was here, in this room, although he certainly could not have picked a worse time to intrude, but what mattered was that he was here.

"Daylighter," Raphael's voice broke Clary out of her thoughts, it was harsh and filled with cruelty, meant to scare Simon off; there was no hint of the man Clary had seen earlier.

Clary glanced up at Raphael whose gaze was fixed on Simon. She almost wanted to cry as she whispered to him, "You said he was dead. You lied to me."


	16. Parting Ways

So I did skip a few chapter numbers because the upload document thing was bugging the hell out of me, but it still picks up exactly where the other chapter left off.

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><p>Chapter 13 Parting Ways<p>

Clary could not explain what happened next; it was all so fast. Raphael ordered Simon out of the room; and being Simon he was, of course, too shocked at the sight of Clary in bed with Raphael to comprehend what he was doing; so he obeyed and stepped out of the room. Then, Clary swung herself out of the bed and picked up her clothes on the floor and darted for the bathroom; she slammed the door and locked it to make sure there would be no unwanted intrusions.

She managed to get her panties and t-shirt on before she sank to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her head. _What have I done?_ Clary's voice screamed in her head. _Simon is alive! He has been alive this whole time and Raphael lied to me! _ Clary wanted to cry, but there were no tears; there was only a pure hatred for a certain head vampire burning inside her.

_I trusted him!_ Clary bit her lip to keep from screaming the words. _Oh, why the fuck did I trust him?_ Clary was still coming to terms with her actions when she heard a knock at the door.

"Clary, it's me Simon." Simon's voice was muffled through the door, but Clary had no doubt in her mind it was him. "Can I come in? We can talk about this; look I'm sorry I didn't show up until now. It's just I've one of Valentine's hunting parties after me and I didn't want to come looking for you until I got rid of them." Simon paused, his voice cracked; no doubt he was still trying to get his head wrapped around the situation. "Clary are you listening? Please let me come in."

Clary was frozen; _why did I not look for Simon in the first place? If I had, this, everything, could have been avoided. I never would have teamed up with Raphael, I never would have signed a blood-binding contract, and I never would have had sex with Raphael._ Clary mentally stumbled over the last part, her brain trying to process it, but it would not; it refused.

"Give me a minute," Clary's voice was hoarse as she reached for her blood covered pants and slipped them on. Tentatively she reached for the door, unlocked it and let it open a crack. Simon pushed his way through almost sending Clary tumbling backwards but he caught her, his grip on her wrists a little too strong.

He picked her up, despite her protest, and set her on the marble counter so she was face to face with him. She dropped her gaze from his eyes, she could not look at him; she was too ashamed of herself.

"Clary, please," Simon begged, his voice sounded desperate, pleading. Clary looked at him once, and then dropped her gaze again. "It's all right. So, you slept with Raphael; it's really not that bad, I guess. I mean he is pretty good looking, I guess; and hey, if you've spent more time with him lately, you probably have a better opinion of him than I do. Maybe he's not really the jerk turned me into a vampire." Simon was rambling, desperately trying to cheer Clary up.

Clary gave Simon a grim smile, "Simon, Raphael is still the jerk that turned you into a vampire; he just fooled me into thinking that he wasn't." However, Clary noted that she did not believe the words she said, she did not want too. She thought back to those few times Raphael had let his guard down; at the Downworlder, safe house, on Valentine's ship; yes, he definitely was not the jerk he pretended to be. But he was damn good at his act.

Simon did not say anything. Of course, this really was not something Simon was good at; he was used to being able to brush off these serious moments between the two of them with a good joke. "Well, uh, do you want to talk about it?"

"What? No!" Clary answered, Simon had managed to pick the worst possible question.

"Ok, we'll avoid that topic; in fact let's focus on something happy, like destroying Valentine and setting the world right." Simon gave her a smile, but Clary could see through it; what Simon saw today would probably scar him for the rest of his immortal life.

"What's happened to you over the past few weeks?" Clary asked, she wanted to focus on something that did not concern her. "How did you get away from Valentine's men?"

"Yeah, okay. We'll talk about that I guess." Simon muttered, now it was his turn to look down at the floor while he ran his hand through his hair nervously. "Well, after the war I pretty much went into hiding, Valentine's men found me pretty quickly so I've been on the run ever since." Simon paused, for some reason he looked guilty. "And as for getting away from the group I meant a friend."

"Who?"

"A friend, the name does not matter." Simon answered a little too quickly. "Look, Clary, I've done some things lately that I'm not proud of, things I'll probably regret for the rest of my life. But my 'friend' told me to look at the Dumort for you. I asked why but she told me not to question it. Apparently she has friends in high places that got her the information. Provided I help her out with something else, or course." Simon finished; Clary raised her eyebrows in suspicion.

"Who is your friend, Simon?" Clary asked slowly, enunciating every word.

Simon looked nervously at the door, it was still shut, but Clary figured Raphael could probably hear their conversation if he was in one of the rooms nearby. "I'll explain later, I promise," and that was the final word Clary got out of him on the subject.

Clary let it go; she did not have the energy to extensively question Simon; and that was partly Raphael's fault, Clary hated to admit. "Okay, well does your 'friend' have any idea on how to get the cup? Maia, I, and a few others got the sword, in the past; oh I'd say twelve hours." Clary paused, _yeah that sounded right, right?_

"Sorry, I haven't had contact with her since she told me where I could find you; and I don't know where I can find her, she tends to find me." Simon was rambling again, "So the cup huh? Well I would guess if Sebastian had the sword then Valentine has the cup. You're his daughter; convince him you're on his side."

"Simon, he already knows I'm against him. We blew up his ship and if there were any survivors he would know I was there and that I was the one who took the sword. Plus, I've already escaped once from his grasp, so I am currently on his hit list."

"Okay, we'll meet up with the werewolves then, figure something out." Simon nodded as he spoke, as if he was trying to convince himself it was a good plan. "And on a brighter note, I'm still the daylighter so we can go now."

"The sun is up?" Clary asked; Simon nodded. "We can't go; Raphael has to come with us." Clary's voice instantly dropped a few degrees; working with Raphael had just become a pain in the ass.

"Why do we need him? He can stay here and handle his coven."

"Because I made a deal with him."

Now it was Simon's turn to be the inquisitor, "What kind of deal, Clary?"

"I'll tell you later," She answered, mocking Simon's earlier tone when questioned about his friend. They were silent for a few moments then Clary spoke again, "I need to talk to Raphael before we leave."

"Okay, I guess."

"Alone, Simon. The conversation will probably be a bit personal, not to mention something you don't want to hear." Clary felt sick to her stomach, she did not want to confront Raphael, not now, possibly not ever.

"Fine." Was all he said.

* * *

><p>Raphael was lounging on the couch in the living roomoffice when Clary found him. He was reading over a few of the documents that had previously been on the desk, wearing jeans and one of those white, wife beater shirts; he looked more relaxed than usual and that only pissed Clary off.

Clary moved to stand by the couch, crossed her arms, and stared down at Raphael while Simon exited the room, but Clary was sure he was listening right outside the door. Raphael looked up at her, he set the papers down and gave her a small smile, "You got rid of the daylighter faster than I expected."

"I didn't get rid of him," Clary said icily, "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't. I only told you what I believed; I believed he was dead and I had no interest in finding out if he really was or not." His voice was light like the subject did not matter, which only made Clary even angrier.

"Well you could have mentioned that you didn't know for sure," Clary stated, she looked Raphael right in the eyes, trying to intimidate him; he sighed.

"You never asked; and besides, like I said, I have no interest in the daylighter, not now at least. I have other, more important matters to attend to." Clary dropped her eyes; yes, she should have asked, she should have questioned Raphael more, and she hadn't.

Clary slowly looked back up at Raphael; and to her disappointment, she noticed all the details along the way. Like the contrast between the white of his shirt and his skin, how the shirt fitted his body perfectly to show the muscles of his chest and abdomen, and how it all made the muscles on his more prominent. Clary felt another blush, which only made her want to cry for still being attracted to Raphael.

"Simon and I are going to meet up with Maia and the others to get the cup." Clary said; she walked to the door.

"The sun is up."

"I know."

"You're aware we still have a deal, right?" Raphael asked, his voice slicing through her like a knife.

"Deal's off, I guess you shouldn't have lied to me." Clary turned the doorknob.

"You think so, hermosa? I'm not an enemy you want." The emptiness in his voice was nothing less than a threat, and Clary knew that if Raphael ever got the chance, he would kill her. Or worse.

"I'll take my chances. And don't call me that." Clary opened the door and walked out.

She could still here Raphael loud and clear as he called back to her, "Whatever you say, hermosa."


	17. Interogation

There won't be too many chapters like this with separate viewpoints; it's just something I'm experimenting with so if you don't like it: tell me, and I won't use it.

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><p>Chapter 17 Interrogation<p>

Clary's POV

Clary had half hoped that Raphael would follow her and Simon. However, he could not; the sun was up. Yet Clary had more important things to worry about so she marched right up to the little café that was currently being taken over by Maia and the others.

"Look who finally showed up," Maia said, "I see you traded Raphael in. I don't blame you that guy drives me crazy; and I've only meant him twice."

Clary raised her eyebrows at that, "You have already meant Raphael before?"

"Well he is the head vampire." Maia said a bit too harshly, "and we've had one other run in before this." She finished. Her face and tone of voice were bitter, apparently she was not that fond of Raphael and whatever had went down at their first meeting, so Clary dropped the subject.

"So do you have any idea of how to get the cup?" Clary asked, everyone looked at her like she was an idiot. Apparently it was her job to figure out the plan.

"We don't know where the cup is." Someone spoke up; Clary thought it was the older guy from before. "All we know is that Valentine was it in Idris; and we doing really have the time to search an entire country." The others nodded in agreement.

"Well if Valentine has made more Nephilim already, maybe one of them would know. They would have had to drink from it." It was Simon who spoke up. His voice was nervous and he looked at the ground when he talked. If it were not for the werewolves' super hearing, Clary was sure they would not have heard.

"That might work." Clary found herself answering. "Even if they don't know where the cup is, we can at least get other information out of the Nephilim. Like guards and traps and other stuff of the sort."

"And how do you plan to get one of Valentine's Nephilim. If they're half as tough as Valentine they won't give up the information. They will either be too devoted or too scared to tell us anything." Maia reasoned, she did not seem opposed to the idea of capturing one of Valentine's men, but she was right, it would be no easy task.

"There are plenty of guards around the Dumort; we can easily snatch one of them."

"So you want Raphael's help?" It was Simon who asked the question, Clary flinched.

"No, we don't need his help to get one of the guards." Clary answered.

"So we're just going to go capture some guy out in the middle of daylight, in New York City?" Bat finally spoke up.

"No, we'll have to wait for night."

Raphael's POV

"You disobeyed my orders, Jacob." Raphael's voice was like a knife; a knife that was slicing through a person's veins that is. Jacob stood in the middle of the room, eyes looking down at the floor. Raphael, was a few feet away standing by the desk overlooking a few of the papers; to anyone who did not know Raphael, they would have thought nothing of it. But Jacob knew Raphael, and Jacob knew what was coming.

"Sire, I can explain." Jacob's words were too quick; he clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breathe, a nervous habit from when he had been human.

"Really? Please, enlighten me."

"It was Lily's idea. I swear!" Jacob glanced at Raphael who looked at Jacob like he was a mundane; which for Jacob, that was very, very bad. "You knew she wanted to fight and I tried to talk her out of it, but the girl is just too stubborn. She, she" Jacob was stuttering now as Raphael walked towards him, coming to stop right in front of Jacob Raphael looked down at him. "She kind of took the lead," Jacob finished lamely; he looked up at Raphael, who looked as bored as ever.

"While I thank you for the explanation as to why my coven attacked the wards that was not the disobedience I was referring to." Raphael paused and walked back towards the desk, opened a draw and slipped on the black motorcycle gloves from inside.

"You know about Camille?" Jacob's words were barely audible, but Raphael heard them. Jacob watched as Raphael's hand slipped back into the draw and pulled out a small, black box; if Jacob was human he would be sweating right now, if he were human he would probably be hyperventilating by now, and if he were human he would never be in this situation in the first place.

Raphael pulled a small object out of the box that glinted in the faint light; Raphael walked back over to stand in front of Jacob. "I know about Camille." Raphael held out his hand to reveal the small crucifix, "and you will tell me everything you know."

Clary's POV

"So how are we going to do this?" Maia asked as she shoved the beaten Nephilim up against the wall who promptly sunk to the ground.

"The sword. It makes Nephilim tell the truth." Clary felt like a school girl answering a simple textbook question. "Although, I'm really now sure how it works." Clary admitted. "I think you lay it across their hands, Jace said something like that once."

"Better than nothing." Maia mumbled. Someone handed Clary the sword and she almost collapsed under the weight. _How did Jace ever carry one of these?_ Clary ignored that inner, annoying voice; it had caused nothing but pain lately. "Someone make him hold out his hands," Clary heard Maia yell behind her. Simon and Bat grabbed the guy's arms and forced them out, as if the Nephilim was receiving an offering. Clary carefully balanced the sword across the man's arms. The Nephilim's face scrunched up in pain, but then maybe that was just him struggling to hold sword up.

"Where's the cup?" Clary asked, her voice was hesitant as she watched the man struggle for control, trying to lie but the words would not come out.

"Valentine has it." The words were practically dragged out of him, his voice filled with pain.

"Where does Valentine keep it?" Clary asked, she was starting to feel pity for the man.

"I don't," The man's breath wavered; Clary wondered if he might pass out from the strain. "I don't know; he moves it a lot." The words were shaky; the Nephilim looked like he would pass out before the interrogation was over.

"Where was it last?"

"The last layer of the Silent City."

"The dungeon?"

"What?" The man looked up at her confused. "No the one below that," He struggled to keep his mouth shut as he realized Clary did not know about the lowest level.

"What level is below the dungeon?" Clary looked him in the eyes and he broke.

"The level with the demon guarding the cup; the level with the dragon."

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><p>Clary and the others left the Nephilim lying there. A few argued they should cut their losses and kill the man, but Clary stopped them. They need a plan to get the cup, that was the priority, and they were going to need a really good plan.<p>

"Any ideas?" Clary asked. They were in a park, the sky was still black above them, and if any mundane saw Clary and the others, they would probably call the cops and report a gang. The others looked at her as if she was the weirdest thing they had ever seen; apparently she was supposed to have the idea for this one.

"I really don't think there is going to be an easy way to do this," Maia started. "Clary can't go in invisible; the demon will smell her before she ever gets close to the cup."

"So in other words, someone will have to go for the cup while someone else will distract the demon therefore sacrificing themselves." Bat spoke up and Clary knew what he was saying was true. "And it will probably have to be more than just one person."

"Then we go in fighting." Someone from the back said; Clary was vaguely aware of her head nodding in agreement.

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><p>"I'm going to give you a chance to make it up to me, Jacob." Raphael's voice was mockingly sweet. Jacob clambered to his knees and was pushed down, his head smacking the floor; the scars from the crucifix burned like hell itself, but they would heal.<p>

"And what chance would that be, sire?" Jacob's words were slurred, his whole body was pulsing from the pain; it was as if his heart had been restarted. Jacob looked up at Raphael through blood streaked vision; then he looked at the cross Raphael was still holding. Eventually the crucifix would burn through Raphael's gloves, they were even smoking already but Raphael took no notice of it.

"I want you to follow Clary and the others." Raphael said; Jacob tried to hold back the scoff that was stuck in his throat.

"You care about her?"

"I care about the future and what it might bring. It just so happens that our future is in whatever her plans are." Raphael put the crucifix away and slipped the gloves off. "You are to follow them, keep me detailed on their plans, and make sure Clary does not die. However, you will only intervene when it is truly necessary." Jacob climbed to his feet, and this time Raphael let him.

"You don't want her to die? So you do care about her."

"I don't want her to die _yet_." Raphael stated, the corners of his mouth turned upward slightly and Jacob could see the tips of Raphael's fangs. Jacob did not question Raphael. He simply walked toward the door, ready to redeem himself. "Oh and Jacob," Raphael called back, Jacob froze, "If you hear anything of Camille, you will tell me."

"Of course, sire." To Jacob the words were empty.


	18. The Mortal Cup

I'm sorry this chapter took so long to put up, I was busy reading City of Lost Souls :D which I was quite happy with.

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><p>Chapter 18: The Mortal Cup<p>

Clary's POV

The bone city seemed more eerie than usual. It was pitch black; the only sources of light were the green glow of the torches on the wall and the bouncing white light of Clary's Seraph blade. Clary and the others never encountered any guards but then, when one has a dragon demon guarding the cup; one probably does not need any extra guards.

Clary was mentally counting the levels as they went down_, one, more stairs; two; more stairs_ and so on. It was not very fun, and Clary soon found herself bored and wishing she had Raphael with her. _At least he would be some kind of entertainment; even if that entertainment delayed them an hour or two_. Clary felt herself blush, so she held the seraph blade a little farther in front of her so no one else would see. She was supposed to hate Raphael right now, he had lied to her and used her; but Clary could not help the feeling she got when thinking about him that made her feel as light as a feather. She felt her blush deepen.

They reached the jail/dungeon and stopped short. There were no other stairs leading downward. Clary sighed, "Now what are we supposed to do?" She asked, talking more to the room to vent her frustration than to the others behind her.

"I dunno." Maia answered. "Look around I guess."

"We have one light; I don't think we will get much 'looking around' done." Clary countered.

"Where is the vamp when you need him?" Maia muttered as she wandered off towards the far side.

"I'm right here?" Simon yelled, waving his arms above his head.

Maia looked up at him; her face had an apologetic look as she said, "Sorry, I guess I was thinking of Raphael. Don't worry though," she said hastily, "you're much nicer. And you're far less likely to kill us all when we're separated." Maia nodded, as if she was convincing herself; Simon just stared at her.

"Yeah, whatever." Simon answered and stalked away.

They did not have to look long before they found the other stairs. They were located in the corner, the door beaten and worn so much that Clary would have missed it if she had not been standing right in front of it. The door opened with a creek and rust floated down from the hinges. "This is going to be bad," Clary muttered.

Clary took the lead down the stairs, then Simon followed, and then the werewolves, who looked the most reluctant of them all. There were no lights down here, only the dull glow of the seraph blade to guide them. Clary began to feel claustrophobic, the darkness closing in on them_. Now I really wish Raphael was here_, Clary felt like the voice inside her was screaming.

At the base of the stairs was a door. Behind the door was a massive room with small torches that burned with a white flame along the walls. Clary could clearly see the cup in the middle of the room. _Of course it's in the middle; it's always in the middle, that's why people in the movies dealing with similar situations always die; because they're stupid and make the same mistake over and over again._ She looked around for the demon, it was not on the ground, but she could smell it, the rotting, fleshy smell that all demons seemed to have. She looked up and could barely make out a dragon like shape on the ceiling; it was not flying it, but it was sticking to the wall like a spider might stick to its web, waiting in ambush.

Clary exhaled; that _thing_ on the ceiling would see her as soon as she stepped through the door, and if it did not see her, it would smell her. Clary let Simon and Maia through so they could have a look at the situation, they frowned.

"There's no way we're all getting out of this alive," Maia started, her brown creased with worry lines as she tried to come up with a plan. "The only think I can think of is we run in, get the cup, and run out with as little causality as possible." A few of the others nodded in agreement, everyone was sullen.

"Any ideas, Simon?" Clary asked, her voice sounded small, like a child's.

"If I were Jace, I would take that thing head on, kill it, and make ten witty comments about it afterwards, but I'm not Jace; so no, I don't." Simon answered; he turned back towards the door and poked his head out. "I'll go first," and Simon bolted out the door so quickly Clary could not even see him until he was on the other side of the room. The demon gave a grunt of surprise and lifted itself off the wall falling to the ground like a cat, shaking the ground as it did.

It was a huge, spider like thing. Its whole body was slender, the legs long, ending with huge, black talons, and every part of its body shined like black medal. Its wings were ratted; the creature probably could not fly well if it could even fly at all. The teeth looked longer than Clary's own arm, its fangs poking out of its mouth this way and that. Before Clary was conscious of it, she felt her feet move her towards the cup, the creature was focused on Simon, and soon the others started filing out of the room.

Jacob's POV

Following the red head was the most boring thing Jacob had done since the great depression. He had slipped in behind them into the silent city, a place he had never been before and he could not figure out what was wrong with burying ones dead above ground, like every other living species.

None the less, he had a job; and he did not want to get punished again. He could still feel the burn marks of the crucifix, even if the wounds were long gone. Sure, keeping Camille's whereabouts from Raphael was a stupid mistake, but he could not help it. Most of the vampires were loyal to Raphael, either because Raphael scared them or they might actually genuinely like him, Jacob scoffed at the idea. Raphael was brutal, cunning, unforgiving, and apathetic to everything that did not concern himself. But Jacob was loyal to Camille, he always had been. However, he had also earned Raphael's trust, or at least more than other vampires in the coven; so it was a mistake not telling him, but he hadn't told Raphael everything he knew.

Jacob smiled as he walked down the stairs; the torch light was more than enough for him to see down here. Soon Camille would be back and Raphael would be gone and Jacob would be in Camille's good graces, maybe even her second, a position Raphael once held. Jacob supposed it was only Raphael's nature to take over and force Camille out, but Jacob had disagreed with it from the beginning; where Raphael was cruel Camille _could_ be sympathetic, when she wanted to be.

_Down the stairs, down the stairs, do these things go all the way to hell or something?_ That was what it felt like to Jacob, a slow decent into hell, until he reached the bottom, which was littered with empty holding cells, and the door to even more stairs across the room was hanging open.

"Careless, she is." Jacob commented, looking at the door with distaste as he walked towards it. "So why does he care about her?" Jacob asked himself, he could not get his head wrapped around any possible explanation that Raphael would care for Clary. Jacob already knew Raphael had banged the chic, the room had smelled like sex and blood from the moment Jacob had walked in, not to mention half the residents of the hotel could hear them. That was one problem with the hotel: thin walls and with a vampire's hearing it was as if there were no walls at all.

So why was she different? He had seen Raphael with far more beautiful girls than Clary, far more willing girls; willing to please and willing to do anything Raphael asked. And every time Raphael had left them as if they were nothing.

Jacob's thoughts were cut off by a chorus of scream and shouts; he reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at the situation before his eyes. He could see Clary racing for what must have been the mortal cup in the center of the room, the daylighter and a few werewolves were doing their best to distract the demon in the middle.

It was not enough. Jacob calmly watched as one of the demon's talons caught one of the werewolves, flinging it across the room with a sickening smack against the wall. Jacob watched as the werewolf slumped to the ground, the lights in his eyes dimming.

He turned back to Clary; she was his obligation anyways, to keep her safe. Raphael had said nothing about the others, particularly the daylighter; Raphael was not the only vampire who disliked Simon. Jacob watched as she half ran half snuck up on the cup, trying to keep a low profile. She made it; although, at the expense of others. She turned back towards the door, Jacob ducked to the side trying not to be seen, and then she called out to Simon and that one girl, Maia. Jacob remembered her, they had meant before, when Raphael had not been the leader of the New York coven and the two of them had been friends, maybe not quite friends but something closer than what they were now. Jacob smiled at the memory, he could not let Maia see him; if she did, she might have a panic attack.

The demon turned on Clary; as she realized her mistake the demon swung its long, barbed tail at her, she hit the floor military style and it just barely grazed over her back; Jacob could see Clary bit her lip, grimacing at the pain. The demon took another swing at her, this time with its talons, Clary reached for her seraph blade and brought it down, right into the mangled paw of the demon.

Black icor dripped from the wound, Clary looked stunned, and then she began to run, calling towards the others to get out. The demon roared in rage, as they escaped. Jacob quickly ran up the stairs, and hid in one of the cells so he would not be seen. He heard the others from below, voices shouting, calling to one another, and breathing heavily.

"I cannot believe that worked," Simon said, as he pounded up the stairs, breathing just as deep as the others even though he did not need to breathe at all. "How many did we lose?"

"I think a better question would be how many are with us," Jacob recognized Maia's voice, tired and exaggerated as she followed Simon. Jacob could picture the look on her face, worry mixed with fear and exhaustion, not so different from the last time he saw her.

"Six." Jacob did not recognize the voice; it was deep and male and belongs to a guy that looked twice Jacob's own height.

"We had fourteen." Maia muttered.

Clary's group walked towards the stairs, completely unaware of Jacob, but then they only had one light and could not see near as well as he could.

"So now we go for the lake." Clary said, her voice was tired, but there was still that determined stubbornness to get what she wants no matter what way she has to get it in her voice. Now Jacob understood why Raphael was interested in Clary; because he could not control her_. And God knows Raphael has to have control_, Jacob thought sarcastically.

* * *

><p>Only two chapters left :) although I am thinking about writing a second fanfiction because there is more to the whole RaphaelClary thing; it's just this fanfiction is more dedicated to the whole idea of revenge on Valentine than the actual romantic stuff.


	19. Lake Lyn

Chapter 19 Lake Lyn

CLary's POV

The amber ring Magnus had given Clary was still on her middle finger. It glinted like fire in the faint glow of a street light nearby; morning was still a long ways off. Clary only questioned for a second if she should use it, and then she brushed her finger over the stone. For a few seconds nothing happened, Clary was beginning to wonder if the ring did not work when suddenly Magnus was there, the remains of bluish-green smoke surrounded him, his hair was sticking out every which way and his eye liner was smudged in a way that told Clary he had been asleep.

"Having trouble?" Magnus asked.

"Not exactly, we got the cup and we need a portal to Lake Lyn or at least somewhere around it." Clary answered.

"You can make portals yourself, can you not?"

"Yes, but," Clary stammered. She could make a portal herself; that was true. However, something about having Magnus with her made her feel safer; she would feel safer with Raphael she admitted to herself but she would never admit it to others, especially Raphael himself. "If something comes up, we might need you."

"I'm not a fighter, Clary." Magnus's tone was serious, drained of any humor. "Even the origin of the word warlock means betrayer, you really want me by your side?" He raised an eyebrow, emphasizing his questions.

"Yes." Clary said firmly.

"So be it."

Jacob's POV

Jacob watched as the warlock created the portal to Lake Lyn. He had texted Raphael what Clary and the others were up to and Raphael had simply responded with follow them. _Follow them_, two simple words that meant Jacob was not going back to the hotel anytime soon.

But how would he get through the portal before it closed? That was an interesting idea. Jacob supposed he could go to the fey, but the fey were tough and Jacob did not have the time for that.

The portal was open, a shining light in the darkness that made Jacob shade his eyes and squint. One by one they filed through, starting with the daylighter who was doing his best to be brave, or at least feign it, then Clary, and then the dogs. Now it was only Magnus.

"Are you going to go through the portal too?" Magnus asked; his cat eyes seemed to glow in the dark and were focused on Jacob.

"You knew I was here?"

"Yes I did. And don't answer my question with a question! It's rude." Jacob flinched as Magnus raised his voice. "I figured Raphael would send someone after Clary; now are you going to use the portal?"

Jacob stalked over and looked Magnus in the eyes, despite the fact that Magnus was about six inches taller. "Thanks." And Jacob stepped through the portal, Magnus trailing behind him.

Clary's POV

When Clary say Jacob stumble through the portal her first move was to throw him to the ground, holding him there with her booted foot on his chest, and her seraph blade at his heart.

"Where's Magnus?" She asked.

"I'm right here, there's no need for bloodshed yet." Magnus stood beside the still open portal. Clary turned her attention back to Jacob.

"What are you doing here?" She asked Jacob.

"Your latest lover sent me; wanted me to make sure you didn't die." Jacob said spitefully, "Although he did say, 'I don't want her to die yet' so my guess is he has something special planned for you." Jacob added, Clary flinched, her cheeks blushed, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Magnus and a few others raise their eyebrows at her.

"I don't need your protection; or _his _for that matter."

"Obviously." Jacob rolled his eyes. "I would have pointed that out to Raphael, but I was in a bit of a predicament with him already and I rather like my undead life."

"You will go back to Raphael and make sure he understands that I don't need help from him." Clary pressed the tip of the blade against Jacob's chest a little harder, making sure he got the point. (No pun intended).

"Even if you had the Clave to back you up on that threat, I'd still side with Raphael. I fear him more than I fear you Nephilim." Clary pressed harder, Jacob winced. "However, I suppose it could not hurt to give Raphael an update." Jacob said; Clary smiled.

"I'm sure it couldn't." Clary said with a smile dripping sarcastic sweetness. She moved the sword and stepped off him. Jacob hastily got up and turned to Magnus.

"You kept the portal open, warlock?"

"I figured you were going to need a quick way back. Just in case anything like this were to happen." Magnus answered waving his hands dramatically. Jacob did not thank Magnus this time; he did look back and glare at Clary who only glared back at him, and then Jacob went back through the portal.

"Jeez Clary, you've got bloodsuckers everywhere. I'm pretty sure that's a health hazard." Bat spoke up.

"Yeah, no kidding." Clary answered back. She turned back to Magnus, "how far are we from the lake?"

"About a mile west, I didn't want to risk creating a portal to close to the lake because I'm sure Valentine has guards posted." Magnus answered; his voice was grim.

"Magnus if you don't want to be here you can go. You might be more help back in New York." Clary said, she was doing her best not to sound disappointed with him.

"That would probably be best." And just like that he was gone.

Raphael's POV

"Why in hell are you here?" Raphael asked. He had ended up running into Jacob on his way into the hotel and he managed to mask his surprise with anger.

"Sire, I'm sorry." Jacob started; Raphael crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow, "look I got caught, by Clary herself. She sent me back and she doesn't want your protection. If you want to find out if that's the truth or not, go ahead. They're in Idris headed for Lake Lyn." Jacob finished and bravely turned his back on Raphael as he entered the hotel.

"And you took orders from her? You're becoming weak, Jacob." Raphael's statement was harsh.

"Apparently I am." Jacob answered quietly; Jacob did not want to put up with this now, he felt defeated and Raphael took note of that so he dismissed Jacob's failure.

"I have one more job for you."

"What's that?" Jacob asked.

"I need you to visit the high warlock back in Brooklyn. Tell him to come to the hotel."

"Magnus is in Idris with Clary." Jacob replied; he turned slightly to face Raphael.

"Doesn't matter. Magnus, despite all his grandeur, is not a warrior, he won't stay with her. Plus, he has a sort of trip wire on his apartment when he leaves; you trip that spell and he'll be there. When he is, send him to me."

Jacob sighed, and headed towards Brooklyn.

Clary's POV

The lake was indeed guarded. Heavily guarded with more Nephilim than demons, it seemed Valentine was lessening his demonic forces and switching to Nephilim. Clary took the cup from Simon and grabbed the mortal sword, and sliced it down the middle of her palm, the blood dripping into the cup.

"Oh, angel accept this offering." She whispered. The others stared at her.

"Clary what are you doing?" Simon whispered.

"I figured I'd speed up the process, that way when we get there we won't have to set things up." Clary said, not taking her eyes off the lake, she saw a shimmer across the water; it was not grand enough for the guards to take notice, but it was enough for Clary to notice.

"Not a bad idea," Maia commented, her attention looked divided between Clary and the guards. "I don't see how we're getting through this, there's too many, Clary." Maia said, she sounded exasperated.

"Maia's got a point, Clary." Simon agreed; the others nodded.

"Well what if we had a distraction?" Clary asked.

"Like what? We'd need something major to get rid of most those guards, and even then there might still be too many." Simon said.

"Like maybe the all-powerful daylighter?" Clary's voice was tiny and high pitched, she did not want to send her best friend out there but it seemed like the reasonable choice. "They are still looking for you right?"

"Don't try to flatter me," Simon said and then he sighed, "I guess I'll go be the distraction, just don't make me dress like Magnus to do it." Simon warned.

Magnus's POV

"Raphael wants what?" Magnus asked the blonde vampire. He had just gotten home and already he was being demanded, _in the middle of the night for crying out loud. Doesn't anyone believe in a good night's sleep anymore? _

"He wants you to go to the Dumont right away." Jacob repeated.

"And what if I say no?" Magnus lowered his gaze to look Jacob in the eyes, his fingers sparking with blue electricity.

"Then I am ordered to stay here until you do."

"What if I turn you into a frog? Or maybe a rat?"

"Then I would be a frog or a rat ordered to stay here." Jacob said blandly, although he did hate the idea of being turned into a frog or rat.

"Pity, I have a cat. I doubt you'd last long." Magnus commented. "Although the Chairman has been absent lately, I think I left him in Idris, he won't be too happy about that. I guess I'll go, it's not like I'll be getting any _real_ sleep anyways." Magnus sighed and gave Jacob a quizzical look, "What is it that Raphael wants anyways?"

"My best guess: a portal to Lake Lyn."

Simon's POV

The closest thing Simon had come to battle was Halo and Call of Duty, which were far from the real thing, he realized. Running in with a gun and shooting an enemy that was programed on easy was nothing compared to being bait to lure dangerous Nephilim away from his group's target, the lake.

Simon stepped out from the cluster of trees. He had walked quite a ways away from Clary and the others just to make sure the Nephilim would not spot them when they spotted him.

The Nephilim did not spontaneously see him like they would have in the movies. They continued on with their duties and Simon had to get closer, close enough that they would recognize him, which was too close for Simon's liking. One by one they spotted him; they waited a few seconds to assess if he was any real danger, so Simon bared his fangs, doing his best to get the attention of as many Nephilim and demons as possible. Then they charged, seraph blades held high and glinting in the moon light. Simon ran.

Clary's POV

She watched as more than half the Nephilim charged at Simon. She had to bite back her screams and tears as he tore off in the opposite direction of her group and force herself to look back at the lake. There were maybe ten guards left; nine Nephilim and one demon, it should be simple enough.

Clary darted for the lake with the sword in one hand and the cup in the other. She did not warn the werewolves, they would catch on to her plan in time. The point was to rush the remaining Nephilim.

They spotted her, and regarded her as a minor threat, this insulted Clary. Here she was with the mortal sword and the mortal cup, which already contained her blood, and she was less than fifty yards from the lake and they thought _Simon_ was a greater problem than she. So when the first Nephilim leisurely jogged over to her, a short sword in hand, Clary whipped the mortal sword across the man's calf, blood spilling from the wound the man collapsing in pain.

Now the others approached her more cautiously. Clary slowed her pace, waiting for the werewolves to catch up. She could see two or three circling wide around the Nephilim trying to get a shot at them from behind. _If only it was a full moon,_ Clary thought. The next two Nephilim approached Clary. She kicked one in the gut, knocking him back while she swung the sword at the other who easily jumped back to dodge her attack. He smiled and raised his own sword, Clary swung sideways with too much force and landed on her side, however, she successfully dodged his attack and he had to regain his balance. Untrained, they all probably were.

Clary rolled over, which was harder to do than it sounded with the sword and the cup in hand. She got to her feet just as the other Nephilim attacked, froze, and fell to the ground. Behind him was Maia, one of Clary's knives in her hand.

"You dropped this back on the ship," Maia said, pointing to the knife in her hand.

"It's a seraph blade thought, why can you use it?"

"It's still a knife, duh. It needs to be all angel powered up to kill a demon, you Nephilim are fair game to all weapons."

"Thanks. I think." Clary muttered.

Raphael's POV

The first thing Raphael saw when he reached Idris was the daylighter running and dodging aerial missiles through the woods and about forty Nephilim chasing him. "Idiot," Raphael muttered under his breath and watched as they all ran by, not even noticing Raphael and Magnus in the shadows.

"You have to admit he's being quite brave." Magnus commented; Raphael rolled his eyes.

"Stupidity is not bravery." Raphael replied and started walking in the direction towards Lake Lyn. "Where's Clary?"

"At the lake like Jacob told you and like I told you after him. Really, how many times do you have to ask?" Magnus questioned, following behind Raphael who did not answer.

Clary's POV

Clary was standing by the lake, rushing through the process of summoning the angel, she did not know it one-hundred percent, but hopefully the angel would not be insulted with eighty percent accuracy and one-hundred and twenty percent effort.

The others fought on, maybe fought was not the correct word. Distract would be better. Doing their best to stay in between Clary and Valentine's men and not get injured in the process. Clary hastily drew the summoning runes that were required, she did not know them, they just came to her as if they were a memory but she had only seen them once before, when Valentine had summoned the angel before her.

The rocks Valentine had used as a table for the sword and cup were still beside the lake and Clary set them down there, the sword balanced over the cup. She did not know if that was required but that was how it had been the first time. The words were another matter. Clary had not bothered paying attention to the words when Valentine had spoken them and now she regretted that. Yet despite her lack of knowledge as she drew the runes she could read them and as she read them they sounded somewhat like the summoning spell Valentine had used.

All that was left was to draw her name as a rune; simple, easy, should not be a problem. That is until someone knocked her to the ground, a sharp pain in her forearm. She looked up, into her own father's eyes.

"I should have killed you when I had you locked up." Valentine raised his sword, Clary tried to scramble away, but her arm would not support her weight, she stared at the blade, it glinted in the moonlight, shining white like fire.

Then someone rammed into Valentine, grabbed the sword out of his hand and stabbing him through his chest, through his heart. All of it took place in what seemed like less than a second. Clary watched as her father fell to the ground, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of his murderer, rage filled his eyes and then they went dark, the life going out of them as he hit the ground.

Clary looked up into Raphael's eyes. She could not read him, he looked as emotionless as ever, but he held out his hand to help her out, Clary hesitated, _how many times had she been put in this situation?_ She ignored the question and grabbed his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

Raphael did not say anything, which Clary was grateful for, now was not the time for any emotional, romantic reunions. She turned back to her work and finished her name among the other runes.

There was a faint glow to the runes and Clary vaguely realized she had gotten the ritual right. She grabbed the sword and finished the last of the words. She threw the sword as best she could into the lake. It was not near as good a throw as Valentine had down but it sunk into the water none the less. Clary's attention was split between the others' fighting, Raphael as he stood beside her, guarding her, and the lake, so she did not register what was happening until she heard the sound of a glacier breaking and the water exploded like a reverse hailstorm.

Clary watched as Raziel rose from the lake, her heart pounded and she felt blinded, she was vaguely aware of Raphael shading his eyes and baring his fangs at the sudden light. _Vampires_, Clary rolled her eyes.

_Clarissa Morgenstern, why do you think you can summon me?_ The voice was in Clary's mind and she could tell by Raphael's expression of being caught off guard that he could hear it too.

"Please," Clary did not know what to do or say, she was tongue tied. "We need your help." She finished lamely.

_We of heaven do not concern ourselves with the affairs of mundanes. All this, _he said referring to the chaos surrounding Clary and Raphael, _is of your own making, of mundane origin. _

"Yes, but it is only the wish of one mundane, the one who summoned you before. Valentine, who now lies dead at your feet and we wish to undo what he has done to this world." Clary argued, she tried to retain her distain for the angel's irrelevant manner, but Clary was no so sure she hide it well.

_I remember him_, the angel said. _He sought only his own renown and glory which belongs to God alone._ _What is it that you want? _

"I do not want a redo, I do not want a remake of the past or a second chance to correct the past," Clary stated; if she had to guess the angel had a questioning look on his face. "I only want those Nephilim that were alive before the war on the Brocelind Plain to be alive once more, including the silent brothers and the iron sisters; except for Valentine or course." Clary finished, she felt winded, the words had taken her breath away and she replayed her speech over and over again in her head. Had she said the words right? Was there anything she missed?

_Close your eyes, Clarissa Morgenstern. _

Clary did not open her eyes until she heard Raphael's voice calling her name. She opened one a fraction and then the other. She was face to face with Raphael, and behind him she could see Isabelle and Alec.

She gently brushed Raphael aside and ran to them, grabbing both Izzy and Alec in a huge that threatened to suffocate them.

"What happened?" Isabelle asked, Clary smiled at the sound of her voice, Alec looked around in confusion, much like many of the other Nephilim who were scattered around the area.

"It's a long story." Clary said; she hugged them again. She promised to explain later; then she went off through the crowd. A few Nephilim had caught on to the situation and had helped the werewolves and Simon finished off or capture Valentine's remaining men. Clary looked desperately for Jace. And then she saw him, standing a little farther off from the crowd but looking just as confused as everyone else. She ran to him, ran right into his arms and looked up at him through joyful tears.

He held her close and brushed his lips across her forehead. "Clary I missed you. I don't know where I was but I know you weren't there, which only means I was in no other place but hell." Clary looked up into his golden eyes, stood on her tip toes and kissed him. The kiss was only for a second, but it was sweet and soft and only made Clary realize how much she had truly missed him.

When she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, she looked out through the Nephilim crowd. Clary's eyes came to rest on Raphael, who was watching them with an amused look on his face. Behind that look was more though, Clary had learned how to read his expressions. He managed to look angry, intrigued, and mournful all at the same time. Clary was not sure if it was shame or regret that brought the blush on her cheeks, but regardless of the cause she broke eye contact with Raphael and buried her face in Jace's chest, hiding the blush from both Jace and Raphael.

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><p>One: I know I'm not a 100% accurate on the summoning of the angel, I know that, it was 11:30 at night, I was tired, and I had not read City of Glass in about two years. Two: Don't give me shit for the way this chapter ends, remember there is still one chapter left and another fan fiction for this story. It will all work out, I promise. ;)<p> 


	20. Repercussions

Last Chapter :)

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><p>Chapter 20 Repercussions<p>

"So we were gone? For almost three weeks?" Isabelle shrieked; Clary nodded. She had already explained all this to the clave who were going to inform everyone what had happened and what Clary had done, but Clary wanted to be the one to tell her friends first.

Jace sat quietly beside her, his hand holding hers, while Alec, Isabelle, Myrse, Aline, Simon, Magnus, Clary's mother, and a few other close friends of the Lightwoods sat or stood scattered around the living room.

"Yes, you were gone, but that doesn't matter because now your back, although, there are other amends to make, particularly for the clave." Clary said, her voice was reasonable, she had told them everything from why she still existed the whole time to Raphael helping her and from Valentine's plans and actions to the werewolves and angel's cooperation. Though, she had conveniently left out all the _personal _moments she had had with Raphael.

"Well as great as it is to be alive and everything," Alec started, speculation in his voice, "What particular amends are there to make?"

"Well like I said, Raphael was a huge help-" Clary got cut off by Magnus who seemed to have come down with a loud coughing fit as he glared at Clary. "And Magnus was a huge help too, as well as Simon, Maia, and many of the other werewolves. Even the faeries helped a little bit." Clary finished, Magnus gave her a smile and a wink and Clary rolled her eyes at him.

"So you think they deserve some kind of reward? The clave can handle that; they'll probably give them the council seats they promised beforehand." Myrse said; it was a reasonable reward.

"Yes, for most it would be," Clary started everyone stared at her, Simon mouthed the word no, saying that Clary should keep her mouth shut, but it was too late, she already had everyone's attention. "Raphael stated right from the start that he wasn't interested in the council seat." Clary finished.

"And why do we care what the bloodsucker wants?" Jace said lazily, and with a glance at Simon added, "No offence."

"Because he helped bring everyone back even though he didn't want to. And because he saved my life more than once, and he was the one who killed Valentine, after all." Clary glared at Jace, he might not know about Clary's and Raphael's relationship, but Jace had no excuse to be rude.

"I'm sure the clave will come up with something." Jocelyn commented. She was sitting on the other side of Clary and looking a little green as she took all the information in.

"We'll just have to wait and see." Myrse commented. Soon Clary and the others her age were removed from the conversation. So they exited the room and went outside, the sun was out so Clary would not have to worry about Raphael showing up, not yet at least.

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><p>"So when shall we celebrate?" Isabelle started and instantly went into a detailed description of party decorations, themes, color schemes, meals, and other party paraphernalia. Clary let her drabble on and then Jace pulled her away from the crowd and Clary let him.<p>

"There's something else, isn't there?" Jace asked; he looked a little paler than what Clary remembered, course that could have been the shock of realizing he'd been gone for three weeks.

"Not that I recall," Clary said quietly, _did I mention I had sex with Raphael?_ Clary wanted to slap her conscious but settled for pushing it to the back of her mind. "I already told everyone the gist of it, the major details that is, but if I think of anything else, you'll be the first to know." Clary lied, she knew she was lying as there seemed to be a dozen moments flashing through her mind having to deal with Raphael, but she kept them quiet; those memories were hers and she would never tell Jace, or anyone for that matter. However, Raphael was another matter; she would have to talk to him, Clary made a mental note of that.

"Okay," and Jace pulled her close to him and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you," He started but Clary cut him off.

"It is not your fault, it is Valentine's fault. Besides, I learned I can sort of protect myself, all I need is some training."

Jace looked taken aback, "But I want to be the one to protect you and the one whose there for you. I don't like the fact that you had to depend on Raphael for help, that shouldn't have happened." _Jeez, do you want to know what else shouldn't have happened? _Again, Clary's conscious would not keep quiet. Clary swallowed hard and bit her tongue, keeping the truth at bay.

"It wasn't that bad, he razzed and annoyed me a bit, but that's all really. Honestly, he's really not that bad." Clary answered, _it was partially the truth, and you get credit for partial truth, right?_

"Okay, if you say so, I trust you." Jace replied and kissed her gently on the lips. Clary had to push back her tears from the guilt.

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><p>There was, in fact, a celebration. It was just a few nights later when everyone had heard and accepted Clary's story. Clary had spent most of the night with Jace, only venturing on her own once or twice to look for Raphael, but she never found him. She was always intercepted by some Nephilim asking questions about her story or thanking her for her great contribution.<p>

Clary had told the Clave she did not want anything in return, she already had everything she wanted: her mother, Jace, her friends, and the other Nephilim; although, some part of her ached to have Raphael by her side. She did miss Luke though, if the clave could bring someone back to life, that would have been what she asked for, however, they could not. So Clary asked for nothing, except a proper burial for Luke and the other downworlders who died during the Nephilim's absence. The clave had agreed.

The clave had also given the werewolves, faeries, warlocks, and vampires their seats on the council. They had offered the vampire seat to Raphael, but he rejected it; saying he had enough work already and he would not be part of the Nephilim's little club. The rumor was that Raphael had actually called it something much worse, but that was the story the clave gave everyone.

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><p>"We can go home now right?" Clary asked her mother, who looked at her and gave her a small smile.<p>

"I don't see why, dear." She started and Clary's face fell. "Our townhouse was destroyed and Luke's gone, where would we live?"

"I don't see why you and your daughter couldn't live with us at the institute. Either until you find your own place or you both are always welcome to stay with us." Myrse spoke up; she had been going over some papers that were no doubt for the institute.

"Besides mom, someone should help go through Luke's personal items back at his house," Clary added, "and at the farm up state."

"He has his pack to do that for him. I wouldn't be surprised if they already have. However, it wouldn't hurt to stay a few nights at the institute." Jocelyn replied, Clary smiled at her mother and gave her a hug. "That was a maybe, not a yes." Jocelyn clarified.

"Mom," Clary said, "It was a yes."

* * *

><p>"Come on Clary, we've visited Maia and her pack, we've visited Alec and Magnus, we went to Takki's, we went to visit Simon and his mother and his sister, we even visited the damn library. Can we go home now?" Jace sounded exasperated as he argued with her, but Clary dismissed it with a wave of her hand and then she tapped her chin with her finger and a thoughtful look on her face.<p>

"I don't know; have we really visited everything?" She said absent mindedly. Jace groaned.

"Yes! Yes we have! There is nowhere else to go!"

"Well, not in this city," Clary clarified, Jace shook his head.

"It's two in the morning; we need to go home, to bed. You know sleep?" Jace waved his arms and started walking back towards the institute, not waiting for Clary to follow. He turned around when he figured out she was not.

"I've got one more place to visit; I'll catch up to you later." Clary called back to Jace.

"Where would you possibly go at two in the morning? Every normal person is in bed!" Jace yelled back, he had started to walk back to her, determination on his face.

"Erik's, he's a mundane, one of Simon's friends and he works a night shift from 7pm to 1pm, crazy I know. I promise I'll be back within the hour." Clary lied; Jace stood there for a moment, consideration on his face.

"You know, I really shouldn't let a cute, young girl like yourself wander around alone at night." Jace started, Clary cut him off.

"Jace, I'll be fine. Remember? I can kick ass now." Clary said confidently.

"Fine, I'll be waiting for you." Jace said and turned back around; Clary walked the other direction until she could turn around and see that Jace was out of sight.

Just to make sure, Clary took a wild array of twists and turns through the city to confirm that Jace was not following her, and then she cut across Manhattan into Spanish Harlem.

It seemed darker here, but that was probably just the change of scenery, the building were older and in worse shape than the shining metal towers of downtown Manhattan. Clary was still away of the precautions she took, checking over her shoulder every ten seconds it seemed like and keeping a sharp eye on all of her surroundings making sure nothing suspicious came out of the shadows.

The Dumort was the same as it had been before and Clary took the back alley and found the grate, firmly set in place. Clary pulled at the grate, it would not budge. She leaned back against the wall of the hotel, panting with her face turned towards the navy blue sky. She took out her phone and found that she only had a half hour left, _Damn it! I won't have enough time_. Clary was becoming more and more aware of the cold as she turned back towards the grate and tugged at it again. Her fingers were red and numb, her breath came out in small puffs of soft white air, and her nose and ears had gone numb long ago.

"Are you sure you want to go in there, hermosa? If you do get in, I might not let you get out." Clary instantly recognized the voice that came from the entrance of the alley. She stood up straight and watched as Raphael walked towards her. He looked the same as before _and as he always will be_, Clary noted. Unlike her, Raphael's skin was not tinged red with cold and there were no air coming from his lips, _because he doesn't breathe_, Clary reminder herself. Raphael came to a stop mere inches from her.

"Why are you here?" Raphael asked; his voice sounded detached, but the look of his eyes gave him away, he regarded her slowly his eyes taking in every detail of her. Even in the cold, Clary could feel her face heat up.

"I'm here to settle our deal." Clary said, her teeth threatened to chatter as she spoke.

"Perhaps we should talk inside. The hotel doesn't have a heater but it is warmer than out here." Raphael said, Clary swore she detected a small smile at his lips and she froze. She remembered what had happened the last time she had been in the hotel and she dropped her gaze to her feet.

"That would not be wise, I think." She said.

Clary felt Raphael's fingers lift her face to his as he asked, "and why is that, hermosa?" Clary did not answer; the words would not form on her lips.

"Look, do you want my blood or not?" Clary said a little more forcefully than she had intended. Raphael dropped his hand from her chin and looked her in the eyes. Clary could not read them, but for some reason he looked angry, absent mindedly she took a step back and hit the wall.

"I already had a taste of your blood and it doesn't work like you said it would." Raphael said, matching her step and now Clary was trapped against the wall. "I cannot walk in the sunlight like the daylighter."

"What?" When?" Was all Clary could say, her teeth threatening to tear her words to shreds.

Raphael gave a slight smile and Clary could see his eyes light up with amusement as he said, "when we were in my bed I bit you. I only got a few drops from the bite itself, and we were too preoccupied with other things for me to actually drink then." Raphael paused and took the last step forward that separated them. "However, I took my chances and tested it a few days ago, almost lost my hand, angel." Clary did not comment. She was too concerned with keeping her thoughts straight with Raphael so close, and it was so damn cold!

"Oh." It was probably the lamest response Clary could give.

"Oh? You could have killed me, hermosa." Raphael brushed the back of his hand along her cheek; then reached behind her to play with a strand of her hair. "I believe we need to rethink our deal. I've already helped you bring back the Nephilim so now all that's in question is what can you do for me?" Raphael's smile grew and Clary pushed herself harder against the wall, she had a pretty good idea of what he might want.

"What do you want?" Clary instantly regretted the question the moment it left her lips.

"You." At that one word, Clary felt like a wave had swept over her, she had expected it and was prepared for it, yet it still sent her mind whirling with possibilities.

"Raphael, I can't. _We_ can't. Besides I have Jace and," Clary was cut off by Raphael.

"Leave him. It happens every day," Raphael's words were gentle, but there was something behind it, a certain roughness that warned Clary she was treading dangerous waters. Raphael had his forehead against Clary's, and his hands on her hips. Clary looked down avoiding his gaze.

"Raphael, I can't I just can't. I finally got him back." Clary whispered, Raphael's hands tightened on her hips, not hurting her but it would not take much of an effort on his part to seriously injure her.

"What's stopping you?" He asked; he raised his head and pressed his lips to her forehead, pulling her against him, Clary shuddered and wrapped her arms around him through his open jacket. She blamed it on being desperate for warmth.

Clary felt Raphael's hand move up along her spine and gently tilt her head up to his and her lips found his. The kiss was gentle and sweet, but Clary could detect that Raphael was holding back, there was a tightness in his jaw as he kissed her, as he held back from giving her a _real_ kiss. At least what he considered a real kiss. Clary pulled back and looked him in the eyes and despite the cold Clary could feel warmth flow through her body.

"What's stopping you?" Raphael asked again, and again Clary did not answer. She could not, it was not the first time since working with Raphael that she had questioned if Jace was really what she wanted. And now, she was completely lost, her eyes searched his for an answer and the answer he wanted to hear was obvious.

"I'm not sure," Clary answered at last, she saw Raphael's eyes darken, and she quickly explained. "When I'm with or thinking about Jace, I want Jace; but when I'm with you or thinking about you, Raphael, I want you." Clary said; her voice was soft and barely audible. Slowly Raphael's lips turned up in a sly smile.

"We could always make the best of the current situation." Clary heard as Raphael's lips brushed the shell of her ear, in his arms she went still. Raphael's lips brushed against her neck, then her jaw, and finally her lips. Clary raised her hands to his shoulders to push him back, but they disobeyed. Instead, they went up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him against her as she kissed him.

This time, Clary could taste Raphael's anger and tension and desire in the kiss as he opened her lips with his and pushed her back up against the wall his hands coming to rest on the back of her thighs. Clary's fingers tangled in his hair as he leaned down and ran his teeth over her neck, Clary could feel fangs.

She pulled back, her hands pulling at his hair to get his attention. "Raphael, don't you dare bite me." Clary gasped.

Clary could feel Raphael's lips move as he laughed against her, he did not look up at her as he asked, "Why? I never said I didn't want your blood, hermosa. I only said it didn't work like you said it would." Raphael paused, "You can consider this the beginning of paying back a very long debt." Clary sucked in a breath as she felt Raphael bite down, but he was only teasing her, she would have bruises but otherwise the skin was unmarked.

"Why would you bite me now? You've already fed, that's why you were out tonight in the first place, right?" Clary asked, trying to keep her senses under control.

"Yes." Raphael answered as he tightened his grip on Clary's thighs and lifted her up so she was pinned between Raphael and the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist. "However, I don't mind dessert." Clary felt Raphael's fangs bite into her skin before she could reply. She tightened her grip around his neck and waist as he drank; Clary bit her lip to keep back any verbal response, whether it would be good or bad.

Raphael did not drink for that long, and Clary did not question it. Sure, she had come to the Dumort expecting to get bit, but not under these circumstances. When Raphael finished, Clary could feel him kiss his way up her neck and jaw, leaving purple bruises in his wake. His lips reached hers and Clary kissed him back, the faint taste of salt that accommodated blood was there but it did not spoil the kiss; to Clary's surprise, the taste enhanced it.

Raphael set her down gently, wrapped his arms around the small of her waist setting his hands firmly on the small of her back, and ground his hips into hers. Clary gasped and Raphael took advantage of the chance to bite down on her lower lip.

Clary pulled away gasping for breath, Raphael raised his hand and grabbed her chin to turn her back towards him, and then he kissed her again. _Jace's kisses might be sweet, but I just might drown in Raphael's,_ Clary thought, then she remembered the one thing that would keep her from staying with Raphael tonight. _Time_, Clary thought with alarm.

Clary pulled back again, removed her arms from Raphael's neck and pushed lightly on his chest. "Raphael we can't, not now." She said; her words were hushed as she whispered to him.

"Is it the cold?" Raphael asked, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. "We could go inside if you'd like, ángel. Although, I'd really hate to make you wait." Clary could feel Raphael smile against her lips and she was more than half tempted to stay and forget Jace back at the institute.

"It's not that. I have to leave," Clary paused; the first part was true, Raphael had done a really good job of warming her up, but she regained her focus and forced the rest of the words through her lips. "It's late; the others will expect me home." Clary said, her voice rising above a whisper.

"You mean Jace." Raphael said; pulling back from her so he could look her in the eyes.

"Yeah, him too." Clary answered. Raphael pulled back and Clary could tell he was barely managing to cover his anger with indifference. Clary got her balance as she was still a little dizzy from the blood loss. "Raphael, I'm sorry." Clary pleaded.

"No you're right; neither of us needs the clave checking up on us. You should go." Raphael's voice was harsh and Clary walked towards the end of the alley when Raphael called back to her. "I'll give you a fair warning, hermosa: Jace doesn't share; and neither do I." Clary heard the underlying threat in his words, so she walked off into the night leaving Raphael behind.

* * *

><p>Clary reached the institute. She was about ten minutes late and when she opened the doors heat rushed out to greet her, and Jace was sitting on one of the church pews waiting for her.<p>

"I told you I would wait for you." Jace said, his tone was all business and Clary did not like it.

"And I told you not to. I'm barely late so don't give me any shit, Jace." Her tone was much more harsh than she had intended and she bit her tongue to keep anything else from coming out. Clary stalked towards the elevator doors and walked through them.

"Jeez babe, what's wrong with you?" Jace looked at her with hurt in his eyes. She looked back at him as the elevator doors closed, she blocked Jace from entering. As the doors closed Clary saw a flash of skepticism as he asked, "Where were you, Clary?" Then the doors shut.

Jace was soon replaced with a reflection of Clary in the mirrored walls of the elevator. Now Clary understood the look Jace had given her. Her eyes were bright with electricity, no doubt the remnants of Raphael's kisses. Her lips were kiss swollen and her hair was wild like a forest fire. Her jacket was crooked and along her neck she could see the faint purple trail of bruises that went from her jaw to her neck. And at the base of the trail were two small, purple wounds: the remains of Raphael's bite.

Clary quickly grabbed her stele from her jacket pocket and drew an iratze, the wounds slowly faded away, but not totally. _Hopefully it will be enough_, Clary thought. Her mind was whirling with desperation to come up with an explanation for the remains of the marks. Clary remembered Raphael's last words to her_: "I'll give you a fair warning, hermosa: Jace doesn't share; and neither do I."_

* * *

><p>The End. :)<p>

I'll try and have the first chapter of the sequel fanfic up within a few days, spare me a bit though, it is AP testing week. :(

In all honestly, the last scene between Raphael and Clary was my favorite. :)


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